Two Sides of The Same Coin
by Ocean Mint Leaves
Summary: "Both needed each other. As the sun needs the moon so that he can be the day, there was no Arthur without Merlin. As the rain needs the clouds so that pouring may commence there was no Merlin without his King."     Sequel To Camlann.
1. Kismet

You asked, I delivered. This is the sequel to Camlann. Enjoy, guys!

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><p><strong>First<strong>

**Kismet**

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><p>The moments were cut into snippets.<p>

After the pain hit, there was but a moment of clarity before everything began to blur. And yet, through the haze, he caught glimpse of Morgana throwing the dagger, felt two strong arms circling around him, and finally another face ( one that he'd unconsciously sought for.) appeared in his vision.

Desperate blue eyes, tousled blond hair. The other side of the coin.

He could only work out half of what his King was saying.

"_NO!…Merlin…"_

He tried to stop Arthur's panicked and senseless diatribe for he knew there was something he needed to say before his heart stopped forevermore, something that Arthur needed to know.

"_You are the…best friend…I ever had. I'm honored to have fought…by your side…M-my King"_

He felt the last little bit of air leave his lips, the last strand of life separating itself from his battered body… and something carrying him away…far away.

A desperate cry tore his eardrums before he left completely though. Someone was screaming.

…_Merlin._

Wasn't it his name?

Darkness surrounded him. Darkness so thick and empty that he didn't even made an effort to fight it. He just surrendered.

Later on, he would feel ashamed but in those moments he just felt…relieved. There was only relief when he closed his eyes, relief when he felt himself floating away. Relief when all the pain reduced to nothing but just a faraway point in the stars that he could not see.

It was before his heart stopped beating and the pain that Arthur was feeling became his as well, now that his spirit could feel the damaged- but never broken- thread of destiny.

Relief turned to overwhelming anguish. He was forced to watch as Arthur mourned over his still form. He was forced to watch, not able to emit a single word of consolation, while Arthur picked up his broken body and held it tight, as if he could somehow give his own life force to the man that was half of his soul. He was forced to watch as Gwaine and Lancelot cried. He had to _watch_ as Arthur called to him with a broken whisper and for the first time he _couldn'_t answer-

It was then when he stepped into the blinding light.

The light was gentle, and kind, like a mother's lullaby. It soaked him as if it had waited for him centuries. It celebrated with him his journey through earth to finally become one with the roots of the earth.

But Merlin wasn't celebrating.

He was a coin broken in half. He had never felt so utterly alone before, as if all that he would ever feel from now on was heartbreak. He knew that in some point somewhere in the universe, his King was feeling exactly the same. He_ longed_ for him. He longed to go to him and just stay there, to feel Arthur near him again. Why was it, _how_ was it, that he had managed to survive nineteen long years on his own without his royal prat?

Even if now his heart was no longer beating, if it lay dead on his chest, still and unmoving, Merlin felt as if it was breaking. No longer beating, but capable of suffering and enduring pain. What was the fairness of death?

There was no fairness that was for sure.

Merlin glanced down at his hands, and he was no longer met by the brutal sight of his bloodied fingers or a hole on his chest. His hands were perfect, clean, the scars he'd endured for Arthur were gone and so was he.

Albion…his destiny…was this how it would end? Before he could even see his friends, his family, once again?

No, it couldn't end like this, could it?. It was too _soon_…

The absolute loneliness was agony. There was something missing…a part of him was _gone. _And his soul cried out for that part. It needed it.

He wasn't going to accept it. He had defied destiny a million times before, and this wouldn't be an exception. He would make it back to his King…no matter what.

"_Welcome Emrys._"

Merlin's blue eyes searched for the sound but found nothing. Just absolute emptiness in wherever he was.

"I'm here."

It was then when he saw; materializing in front of him, a little girl, light blond hair and timeless eyes, no more than five or six. She was holding a pair of scales in her tiny hands, and a little smile graced her red lips.

"Is good to see you, Emrys. After all this time"

Merlin felt like if he had seen this girl before…somewhere…

"Do I know you?"

The smile extended even more through the youngster's face. "I always wondered if _you_ would recognize me. It seems that a part of you does, anyway. For you, Emrys, my name is Kismet."

The part of Merlin that was Emrys understood. He stared into the girl's colorless eyes and drew a small gasp. Kismet…_Fate_…

"Oh" he said softly.

"Yes. We have met before Emrys. I chose you, and Arthur, to be bonded. I interlaced your souls as one. It is needless to say, that I didn't see _this _coming"

She motioned to the scales with one of his tiny hands and as Merlin watched, both of the weighting platforms suddenly snapped and fell to the floor with a clatter.

"It's destroyed the balance." Kismet said softly with a look of intense interest and sadness in her eyes "you and Arthur are both suffering from this partition. The witch had managed to break what destiny took so many delicacies on unfolding."

She watched silently the two platforms on the floor for a moment before turning to Merlin once again. "I will take you to your King, Emrys. But I can do nothing for you, besides that. Destiny, it seems, has been broken from its roots, and only you and Arthur can restore it. I am powerless now."

Merlin watched as the girl placed one of her tiny hands on his temple and directed him a warm smile. She had managed to fill some of the void he was feeling on his chest, though not completely. She was like an old friend.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

The girl's giant, beautiful and timeless eyes locked with his and she said gently "In your world, I'm called Themis."

She whispered some words on the old tongue and then let go of Merlin. "Think of your fate, Emrys." she murmured, so soft that her voice seemed to be carried by the wind.

And so, Merlin did. He let himself remember all the pranks, the jokes, the banter, the emotional moments, the sadness, the grief. He let Arthur's face fill his mind, his pratishness, all the time he had drove him crazy. But mostly, he let the moment Arthur was crowned King stand in wonder before his eyes.

_Arthur._

The moment he muttered that name he felt himself being torn away from the nothingness and into a bright, white light again. His eyes closed, shied away from the brightness, and then…he was on the ground. He could feel soft grass below him, lulling him to sleep. But before his mind could grasp what was happening he felt himself being turn over, gently, carefully, as if he was made of glass.

_"Merlin, wake up. You've got to wake up…come on, come on…" _

It was Arthur. He would recognize that voice everywhere, even in the brink of death, or in this case, the brink of life. He wanted to answer him; he really wanted to do it. But no word came out of his mouth. He was still, as still as a _dead_ body.

He felt his head being lifted and cradled gently, and more than anything Merlin wish he could speak _"Don't worry Arthur, I'm here. I'm always here…"_

_"Wake up, my friend…I'm bringing you back, you hear me? You are coming back with me, now. That's an order, Merlin."_

_Since when have I followed your orders?_

Just this once, though, he did. He ordered his soul to return, to seal itself, all the amount of power, into a small body again.

It was painful, when he did it. His magic, empowered by his touch with fate, started to work from the inside, closing the fatal wound, working through his tiredness and weakness, though not completely…

He felt and savored salt. Power, also, ancient power…

Someone drew a gasp by his side and Merlin felt a hand press itself around the skin on his wrist. The hand, the touch, it was like breaking through water and being able to breathe again…it was as if his heart had never been broken, as if the part of his soul that was missing had finally returned.

He _heard_, and_ felt_, Arthur's heart shake and _break_ painfully inside his chest. A sound that resembled a wounded animal filled the air. And then he wasn't lying on the flat grass anymore, but inside the circle of gentle arms, Arthur's arms, which were shaking as if he was trembling.

Arthur. He was crying…

"_No man is worth your tears"_

"_I'm never going to let him live this down"_ Merlin thought weakly through the mist that enveloped his mind. He felt like if he was in the middle of a hazy dream. He was intensely attuned with Arthur somehow, his pain was traveling through his veins and it became his too. But his body still hadn't drawn a breath, and it was getting really difficult to stay awake…

"_Merlin_…" Arthur spoke softly, somehow reaching him through the darkness that was closing again "I thought I told you to come back. Why don't you listen to me? Please…don't leave me _again_…please"

His voice sounded so fragile and scared that Merlin forced himself to return, to face the darkness one again and draw a little breath.

It burned through his lungs, like fire. How many hours had there been since he had last breathed?

To be in his broken, bruised body once again was rough…but if that was the price to pay to see Arthur whole again. He would pay it gladly.

His eyes blinked. It was hard, to make them move once again. But he did it anyway…

For Arthur.

He saw Arthur's neck, from the place of his head against his King's shoulder. He saw how the tears ran down Arthur's cheeks and through his jaw, down his neck, finally being soaked by his tattered, bloodied armor.

He exhaled the breath he had been holding and sighed.

Arthur's head immediately snapped towards his and the King's eyes had never looked as pained, but yet, never so majestic. The light of the new rising sun formed shades in the light blue of them, making them shine as sky-born pearls. Merlin looked into them, seeing Arthur's eyes widen in hope.

The hand of the other side of the coin moved down and Merlin felt Arthur's fingers reach through the hole in his tunic. His warm palm rested against his chest for a moment and the King's eyes had to blink away more tears of amazement and pure gratefulness. Merlin knew why. His magic had already closed the evidence that he had once being gone more than an acceptable distance from his King.

Arthur touched his wrist gently, unbelieving fingers closing around it as if he was holding to a lifeline.

His eyes continued locked with his King's, following each of his movements and frowning at the state he was in.

_Seriously, I can't leave you for a minute, can I, old friend?_

The Once and Future King looked like if he was dead himself. Pale lips, pale cheeks, pale skin. Glimmering, red shot eyes, shaking hands and body.

Arthur still watched him as if he was expecting Merlin to disappear any second.

With a small smile, Merlin let out another breath.

" Arthur…" he said, trying to bring him out of the depths of despair " You needed me." _you'll always need me_ " I've come back._" I'll never leave you, not even death can keep me away._

And he was glad he was enduring the pain when he saw Arthur smile.


	2. Blue Blooded

For all of you wonderful readers: You might be a little confused in this chapter if you haven't read Through The White. Normally, inserting OC's for me is a big no-no, but now I guess I understand the fun of them. Besides, I needed to explore them a bit more.

Again, thank you if you are reading this. This is set between the 4th and 5th chapter of Camlann, and its kind of a plot filler, as well as a character study.

a big thank you to April29Roses because of her wonderful review, thank you so much! it was lovely, I hope you continue reading it :D

Oh, and this is dedicated to Vuurvlieg :) happy birthday hun!**  
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><p><strong>Second<strong>

**Blue Blooded_  
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><p><em>Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.<em>

_Shakespeare "Henry IV. Part II"_

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><p>Morgana had attacked with the viciousness of a bloodthirsty animal. No men had been left unscathed, no city had been spared. The ground was scorched and the battles were stages for the most gruesome scenes any knight from Albion had ever seen. These battles would haunt some awake and in dreams forevermore.<p>

Camelot was silent with grief and darkened by fear. Yet the splendid castle was a beacon of light for the weary, in there, behind those great walls, were their reminder that not all was lost, that their King was fighting for them in battle and their Queen and prince were looking after them with the softness and gentleness of a mother looking after her children.

That night, the first restless night of many to come, prince Amhar of Camelot was jerked awake by the hands of his most trusted knight and friend. He opened his brown eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings and the mop of familiar mahogany hair by his side.

"Amhar, up an' at them!"

The prince blinked at Galahad for a few moments before focusing on the window that was clearly still dark with the stars as their only light. Understanding that day hadn't yet come and it was morning he turned again towards his father's loyal and youngest knight and frowned.

"What's wrong?" he said, yawning as he rubbed his eyes.

Galahad looked stark pale as he pointed at the door and said, choked up by the emotion. "It's a Camelot knight from the battle. He says he needs to talk to you."

Amhar immediately jumped out of the bed, caring little about the bedsheets tangled and spread all over the floor or the goblet of wine he managed to knock down in the process. He began putting his robes on, hopping around as Galahad watched with restless feet.

His heart ached as he thought about his father and that last, fleeting moment they'd looked at each other before the great King had disappeared from his view. He remembered Arthur's lingering touch when he'd placed that warm hand on his young heir's shoulder and asked of him to be Regent in his absence. To precede, with Guinevere, all of the decisions the Court made and the welfare of his people.

Being regent...was not what he expected at all. He had to make decisions..."_ decisions that will shape the future of this land_" as Merlin quoted Arthur all the time, just for the King's annoyance. But now, Amhar understood. Being regent was not an easy task, not even with his wise mother at his side and the cheery, happy-go-lucky knight of the round table that was his best friend.

Who was still staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"Is it one of the Round Table?" he inquired, pointing at the sign in Galahad's chest. Galahad shook his head.

"No. it isn't" he replied and Amhar did not miss the slight worry that bled from his tone. "Amhar, don't you think they should've been here already? I got a letter from Percival weeks ago in which he told me King Arthur was sending some of them home- shouldn't we fetch some patrols and go towards the battlefield…..?"

Amhar brought a finger to his lips to shush his friend. He smiled softly, being accustomed to Galahad's rambling ways, before placing a hand upon his knight's shoulder in silent appreciation.

"I know you're worried about them, as am I. But we must hope they make it home safely."

Galahad nodded though the knot on his chest did not loosen a bit at his prince's words. "I still don't understand why they didn't let me go." he whispered to no one in particular. But of course Amhar heard him. He understood that his friend was hurt because he had being left behind by his brotherhood, but he also knew that the knights and Merlin looked at him as a little brother. And big brothers do not let little brothers get hurt.

"They wouldn't leave me here alone without my best friend and knight to keep me company, right?" he said, raising an eyebrow. Galahad smiled appreciatively at him, clearly grateful for the effort to cheer him up.

"Let's go see this knight, then." Amhar said, pointed at the door with a raised finger and snatching his red cloak from the table. Galahad followed close behind.

The knight in question, was one very tall, well-built and with sorrowful eyes. He had a scar running from cheek to cheek, a rather gruesome wound on his arm and was limping badly. Amhar paled slightly. All in all, his appearance told him that the battle had not been an easy one. The Prince tried not to think of his golden bearded father wielding Excalibur and riding to certain death...

He closed his eyes for a moment to force the image out of his mind before he opened them again, looking at the knight questioningly.

"Your Highness." the man said, kneeling before him. Amhar just nodded, trying to subdue his fluttering heart.

"Get up." he told the knight gently. "Those brave men that fight for Camelot should not bow after the honor they've accomplished."

The knight looked up at him, dark eyes glistening. He managed to stand shakily in front of his Prince and he nodded his head towards Galahad, who did the same.

"I bring news from the battlefield…." The man said slowly. Amhar gasped a pained breath and he felt Galahad's strong hand on his shoulder. "Camelot has won another victory. The witch has fallen."

Amhar couldn't help but smile widely at the news. Galahad looked pretty happy too and they patted each others back with a big grin on their young faces. They both beamed at the knight, not caring in the slightest if it wasn't a noble thing to do.

"But I'm afraid there were…." The knight gulped, clearly struggling to get the next words out. "there were _casualties_."

Amhar's eyes opened until they were impossibly wide and Galahad's clutch on his arm became even tighter. They both waited, hearts on their throats, for the knight's next words.

"My father?" Amhar whispered hoarsely, tears already forming in his eyes. By his side, Galahad let out a huffed whimper. If King Arthur had fallen...then Camelot was doomed. He knew that. Absolutely everyone knew that.

"Your father is alright" said the knight, who looked alleviated himself "But the Court Sorcerer…"

"_Merlin?_" both boys screamed at the same time, denial filling their voice. Galahad jumped and advanced towards the knight. Not one second had ticked by before the the youth's strong hands were on the weary knight's collar as he shook him, almost as if he thought that by shaking this veteran of war he could get the truth out of him. "That's _not true_, please tell me that's not true!"

"I'm afraid it is." the knight said weakly, not even bothering to get out of Galahad's tightening grip. "He died valiantly, as I have been told, taking a blow for the King."

When Galahad ( eyes wide and disbelieving.) looked back at his prince, Amhar did not look back. Air was suddenly scarce, the rising sun was nothing but senseless warmth...

The golden-haired prince placed a hand before his eyes, trying to stop the sobs that were rising to his throat. But a grief this great cannot be stopped and tears starting running down his cheeks while he tried to deal with the pain that was tugging at his young heart. He had known Merlin for all his life..._Uncle_ Merlin...He was one of his best friends, his god father, advisor, loyal companion...if he was _dead._.

Sudden words that his father had muttered affectionately when speaking of his eternal companion entered his mind. _" Merlin is a self-sacrificing idiot"_

_He died valiantly, as I have been told, taking a blow for the King._

Yes, Uncle Merlin would most certainly do that…but he couldn't be gone…he _couldn't_.

Galahad voiced his thoughts with his feral cries.

"This is _Merlin_ we are talking about, for goodness sake!" the Round Table Knight screamed, letting go of the man and pacing around the room with the long, restless strides of a caged animal. "He can't be _dead_!"

"I'm afraid he is, Sir Galahad." the knight answered and it was as if he did not want to believe it himself. "I saw it with my own eyes."

Amhar wiped his tears with the back of his hand, trying to fight back the voice in his head, his father's voice who told him softly, '_No man is worth your tears.'_

_But this was Merlin._

"What do you mean?" he asked softly, biting his lip to stop the sobs from coming.

The knight hesitated for a few seconds before answering

"Your father, Your Highness...before I left to deliver this message, I was face to face with him. He told me that you shouldn't wait for him, that he'd go to Ealdor first. He also told me how proud he was of you and how he was sure you were a great Regent in his absence."

"But you saw…you saw Merlin." Amhar pointed out with a shaking whisper. Brown eyes that were Guinevere's scanned every rough feature of the knight's face.

"I did, My Lord" the guard closed his eyes, obviously trying to repress memories that were coming back to life. "Your father…he never left him alone. I had never seen anything like it. After he called me into his tent, at first I was taking aback by the…corpse." he winced slightly and Amhar could not repress a sobbing gasp. "the-_body_ on his arms. For a moment, I really thought the sorcerer was just injured…but the paleness of death was already in him."

"Arthur never left him." Galahad whispered. He looked downwards while he pressed one shaking hand to the crook of his nose. His memory was flying back to the moment he had met them, the way Arthur had said jokingly. _"I guess that's what comes with a bounded destiny."_

"Not for a moment sire." the knight assured, throwing a knowing glance at Galahad. "he kept talking to me while he passed his fingers through the sorcerer's hair as if nothing was wrong and I…wasn't brave enough to even make an observation. Although it was clear to me, as it was clear to everyone in the camp…that the Court Sorcerer is dead, no matter how much the King speaks to him and holds him."

He fell silent after that, looking at the floor uncomfortably. The silence hung between them as a reminder of the grief they all felt for what seemed like years until the sun finally entered the window entirely, illuminating it all with its golden hue.

It was then when Amhar regained his Prince-like expression and sobered up. He looked at Galahad and said softly. "He's going to Ealdor to take him to Hunith."

"I know." his knight replied with the slightest nod of the head.

"What's your name, loyal knight?" Amhar asked to the man, kneeling so that he could lock his luminous brown eyes with his.

"My name is Sir Victor, my Lord." the knight responded, bowing humbly.

Amhar placed both of his tanned hands on the man's shoulders and helped him up gently. He smiled reassuringly at him before pointing at the left. "Go to the physician's chambers and get all your wounds patched up. Your loyalty shall be rewarded."

The knight smiled sadly at him before kissing his hand "Thank you, my prince. I can already tell you'll be a King as honorable as your father."

Amhar smiled slightly as he watched him go. But the numbness that had only taken form beneath his skin as Sir Victor spoke was now running through his blood, freezing his heart with the shadows of a grief that could not be-

_How could this happen_?

Because the thought of Merlin dying was inconceivable to his young mind, just as the thought of evil is inconceivable to those pure of heart. Much like Arthur, he had woken up with Merlin sun-lit smile, he had ran to his god-father's awaiting arms whenever he felt ill or lost, he had touched with his tender, infantile hands that pure face that held within such wisdom, he'd relied on that strong shoulder throughout all of his battles...

To live a life without Merlin would be impossible. Such death was _inconceivable_.

And yet...It was true.

It was then when Galahad met his gaze and the sheer pain that he saw in those soft eyes mirrored his own.

The knight of the Round Table had stopped pacing but his sword had already released his onslaught of grief on the few dents that now were on the walls. But the _memories_...

Galahad thought of the way Merlin and Arthur bantered around, always bringing smiles up on each others faces... He thought of how they both had stood, proud and tall, as he received his nomination as a knight of the Round Table and a member of Camelot's nobility. The way Merlin had hugged him after, telling him he was proud and beaming like a father...

Both of them were crying silently, barely acknowledging the other.

Yet, Amhar's priorities were slowly returning to him, and he shook his head sadly as he got up, knowing that there was something else that needed to be done.

"I have to find mother" Amhar said after a while, getting up and drying his tears "to tell her…tell her that father is alright"

Galahad straightened immediately "I'm coming with you."

Amhar nodded at his loyal friend and, shoulder to shoulder, they walked out. Much like a King and a Sorcerer had done weeks ago.

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><p>Guinevere was sitting on the royal table, having a quiet conversation with Sir Bedivere, who had stayed behind to guard her, when the doors snapped open.<p>

She turned her head, half expecting to see Amhar come in, but it was not her dear, golden haired son. It was Sir Leon, looking battered and exhausted, his chain mail dirtied with blood and mud...but the most striking thing about his aspect is that he looked as if he had been…crying?

"Arthur?" Queen Guinevere had said immediately, bringing a hand to her heart. Her mind rushed through all the possible ways Arthur could've fallen in battle, to her brother, to Lancelot and Gwaine and Percival. But Leon had just looked at her, shaking his head while tears continued sliding through his cheeks.

And then he said it.

"_Merlin_"

Oddly enough, Gwen never thought of that possibility. She had prepared herself for Arthur's downfall, maybe some of the knights, even her_ brother_...

but Merlin?

That cheerful, adorable, wise warlock that was her company through the long council meetings, who cheered her up when she thought being Queen was too much, who looked after Amhar since the day her beautiful son had been brought into the world, who was always there for her, never seeing her as the Queen, or a serving girl... Just Gwen.

She wasn't expecting it at all.

So Queen Guinevere let a long, grief-stricken shout that was probably heard down at the kitchens. She shook her curls in denial several times, shaking all over with a sadness so strong there wasn't a name to it.

Gwen felt as if her world was crumbling.

Merlin…

Merlin dead…no, not Merlin. _Not Merlin_.

"Dead?" she said in a whisper. _Dead?_ a voice in her head repeated _How can he be dead?_

Leon nodded slowly, bringing one hand to his head and sobbing in despair. Gwen just stood there, too stunned to move.

Sir Bedivere had paled considerably and his lips were quivering. There was a dark, desperate anguish on the room since Leon had said those words. It wasn't the somnolence and grief Arthur's passing would've brought, nor the silent tears Elyan's death could've caused.

Merlin gone...

Merlin _gone_ was complete chaos on the hearts of everyone who had known him.

That's when Gwen's feeble mind flew to her husband and she realized, with a twist to her heart, that _Arthur_ would be completely tattered. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the relationship between those two, only caught glimpses of its heavenly and truthful nature. She moved her head slowly to the side, dark curls bouncing slightly, directing her tear-filled gaze towards Sir Leon, begging for him to answer truthfully

"How's Arthur?" The Queen said in a slow murmur. Leon looked at her, advanced towards the table and fell to his knees while he faced her.

The poor knight looked as if he could barely stand. And it was true. Leon had seen his King, his beloved leader, turn into a broken man, as he had watched Uther break some many years ago. It was terrifying to think that Arthur could probably be this darkened soul touched by grief for the rest of his reign. The loyal knight, who had always followed Arthur even to the "_ mouth of hell"_ was sobbing despairingly at his now imminent downfall. Because _King_ Arthur, the ruler of all England and supreme King of Albion could not be conceived without Merlin standing at his side.

He recalled, as if from a painful dream - _painful, too painful to be true_- how Arthur had appeared in camp, Merlin in his arms, numbly passing through the columns of knights that were watching, horrified, from the sidelines. Gwaine and Lancelot, following close behind, heads bowed in grief. The way he had refused to acknowledge it, and he, Sir Leon, had screamed at Gwaine for the truth and received a shove instead. How everyone in the camp seemed to have fell silent. How time had stopped.

How Arthur had just sat there, his beloved friend cradled against his chest, saying nothing but suffering everything. How not one of his loyal knights could get Merlin out of his grasp, how he had just remained there, stroking Merlin's hair tenderly, as if by force of doing it he could bring him back.

When he did talk, it was a saddened whisper that seemed to arise from the depths of the battered knight's soul.

"Gwen, it's terrible. He's _broken_. He won't let anyone take Merlin's body away, he just keeps hold of him, as if he is unable to let go. He doesn't leave him. He does not eat, does not sleep. No one knows what to do…"

"Where is he now?" Gwen asked, trying to hide the broken sob that was rising through her throat.

"He went to Ealdor" Leon answered. He looked at the Queen's face with such a heartbroken expression that Gwen didn't even want to imagine Arthur's face in those moments.

"How did it happen?" she inquired, taking Leon's hand in hers, pale interlaced with dark, trying to tell him that she understood the horror he was feeling.

And she did understood. She understood all too perfectly, she had seen Merlin die once before, and it was so horrible that the memory send shivers down her spine again. She had cried of joy when Merlin had come back, by the hand of destiny, to her and Gaius, to _Arthur_.

"He took a knife for Arthur when Morgana attacked" Leon answered softly, pain in each one of his words, like ink dripping from a recently written letter "that's as far as I got out of Gwaine. But Morgana was dead when we checked the bodies…and I have no doubt it was _him._"

Leon wanted to say _Arthur_. Arthur had killed his sister...as vengeance no less.

The Queen of Camelot closed her beautiful eyes tightly, relieving scenes behind dark eyelids. Morgana laughing and demanding a dress, Morgana being her usual cheery self...Morgana betraying them...

and then, Oh Merlin...

Merlin...the reality hit in full force again. Merlin gone, _forever_.

Gwen nodded, feeling as if her heart might burst out. Merlin was…he was gone. And Morgana was gone too. Merlin gone was already too unbearable to even think about it…

But Morgana…

She shouldn't be feeling this, this oppression on her chest. This desire to cry out and to sob until she fell asleep. Morgana was dead, she was dead from the moment she had betrayed Camelot…

"Oh, Leon" Gwen whispered, burying her face in her hands and starting sobbing.

Leon just bowed his head as tears slid down his cheeks. None of them noticed when Galahad and Amhar entered the chambers, pale and teary, eyes even wider when they saw the broken knight.

"So it's true then?" Amhar said, voice quivering " It's true, Leon?"

And Leon, still crying, nodded.

"NO!" a throat splitting scream came from the always cheerful, mahogany haired knight. Galahad looked at Leon with fury in those dark eyes, behaving so much like a strange beast that Leon backed away slightly.

"No" he repeated, calmer this time " Leon, that can't be true..."

Leon nodded again.

A heartbeat passed.

"mother..." Amhar said brokenly, trying to grasp reality of what he was hearing. Gwen just ran to her son, taking him into a hug and sobbing onto his chest. Amhar held her, too stunned, too weak and stricken to even move. He had seen his mother cry just counted times...

And he bowed his head too, silent tears sliding through tanned cheeks and landing on Gwen's dark curls. Neither of them said anything...there was nothing to say.

He looked around and saw Galahad crying despairingly by Leon and Bedivere's side. The three knights of the round table where grieving the truest friend they'd ever have, their warlock, advisor and cheery companion.

Prince Amhar snapped his head upwards as the sun caressed his features. He looked at the throne, as the sun casted golden sparks from the red blood material of the seat.

Because he knew, that if Merlin was gone, Arthur's spirit was gone also. And that meant that he, Amhar, would've be regent until his father's probably early passing.

Merlin was gone, and the dream of an united Albion had gone behind him.

* * *

><p>Ah, all that angst is going to kill me!<p>

:) Well, Vuurvlieg there you go, I hope you liked it :D Happy birthday again! and may I do a little bit of propaganda? well, Vuurvlieg's Everything is amazing! go read it :D


	3. Postbellum

OMG! Sorry but first I'm going to start fan girling about the deleted scene from 4x09, Lancelot Du Lac, and yes, that's where I got the quote below, it was just so…agh, so beautiful and cute and cuddly and everything that Merlin and Arthur are!. Go watch it and start squealing! :D

*clears throat.*

It's finally here.

This is the chapter that I've been more excited about. I seriously don't know if it's what you all expected but this is what came out from me. It was a really lengthy process. But after listening to the song quoted below for at least 3 times I finally felt inspired enough to do this.

And it is the first draft; I like to stay with what comes forth from my soul.

Love to you all, **  
><strong>

Ocean.

* * *

><p><strong>Third<strong>

**Postbellum**

* * *

><p><em>So lately, been wondering<em>

_**Who will be there to take my place?**_

_When I'm gone you'll need love_

_To light the shadows on your face_

_(….)_

_If I could, then I would_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_Way up high or down low_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_And maybe, I'll find out_

_A way to make it back someday_

_**To watch you, to guide you**_

_Through the darkest of your days_

Charlene Soraia "I'll Go Wherever you will Go"

lIl_  
><em>

_"You'll be there should I need you?"_

_"I will"_

_"You will"_

Arthur and Merlin " Lancelot Du Lac"

* * *

><p>For the longest time, the two pairs of blue eyes remained connected, as if by a silent agreement, by an invisible chord that tied their souls, or maybe by destiny's forgiving and now gentle hand. Both were different. The tired, glazed and torturous gaze of the warrior that had seen too many battles, of the King that had been forced away from the person he needed the most, of the friend that had watched his life crumble apart faster than he could've foreseen it. And the calm, gentle, patient and loving gaze of the advisor that knew exactly what was reeling on his King's mind, of the warlock that had forced himself back to his true place ( by Arthur's side), of the friend that saw the despair and horror in every line that marked Arthur's destroyed demeanor.<p>

But both were alike, for both were lighten with such unspeakable devotion, alleviation and interminable affection, saying through their eyes everything that could not be,( for was too high and pure) put into words. The longing and sorrow, the tears, the reality of a lonely tomorrow, the cries, the _bond_.

How did it felt to be part of a shattered coin.

It was in the middle of that soft, ethereal silence, that the warlock lifted his trembling fingers to the King's chest, mimicking the movement. He rested his hand there, exhaling softly as he felt the madly thumping heart of his best friend against his cold palm. How odd that he had never thought about this during his life. The comfort of a heartbeat.

Arthur's hand, accompanied by widen eyes the color of the calm sky and towering tears, detached itself from the newly beating heart that he was feeling and, in a swift movement, caught Merlin's numb hand with his own, clutching it _desperately_, unbelievably, hopefully. Interlacing each of the pale fingers with his own, he asked his tired, hazy mind if he was just imagining that his dear friend was back with him again.

Merlin's eyes - _so truly, wonderfully alive_- widened slightly, as if he knew what Arthur had just thought. A soft, gentle smile graced his lips as he murmured, almost breathlessly.

" I thought...no mas was worth your tears?"

A broken sob escaped the King's throat as he grasped that Merlin, _his_ Merlin, was really there, was _breathing_ in his arms, and was smiling at him. In a trembling movement he brought the cold hand of his warlock to his lips, kissing it almost reverently before enveloping his strong arms around Merlin tightly, forcing the surprised warlock's face to rest against his cheek.

Arthur could feel Merlin's still slow heart against his own chest, and he let tears of gratitude fall from his eyes as he buried his face on Merlin's hair. All the pain, desperation, complete _horror_ that had entangled his heart with their cruel tentacles...they were _gone_. With the light and sweetness of Merlin's smile they were gone, as if they'd been overthrown by the heart beating on Merlin's chest. His fingers, tips still caked with dark blood, adhered themselves onto Merlin's clothes, clutching them with a desperation that had _never_ taken this much of him. The familiar scent of apples and herbs surrounded him again, but this time it was a prelude to mad happiness instead of overwhelming sorrow...

A fit of slightly hysterical laughter escaped his lips before he could stop it.

"Merlin..." he pressed one of his hands into the back of Merlin's head, burying his pulsating fingers on Merlin's dark locks, brushing away the tears that fell from his eyes as he did so. Merlin just shifted in his arms slightly, sighed, and mumbled softly, though obvious surprise swiped from his voice

"You're hurting me, Arthur"

As a reaction to all the pain he had just endured, Arthur immediately let go of Merlin, looking through his body frantically, searching for any other mortal wounds. Heaven knew he wouldn't _survive_ if Merlin left him again.

But his friend just winced slightly, regarding his King with a playful smile " My arms...Ow, Arthur what have you done?"

And Arthur found himself thinking of how a few hours ago he would've _killed_ for Merlin to say that.

_I've probably bruised them_ he thought, between the ecstatic state of his mind and the throbbing pain that he was still feeling.

The King laughed, then. A real, crystalline, joyful laugh as he gathered his beautifully alive friend to his arms once more. Merlin didn't offer any resistance; it was as if he was too weak to even lift his head or maybe he just knew that Arthur needed it. The King's arms tightened around him as Arthur clung onto him, like if Merlin was his lifeline, his savior.

And the warlock could feel nothing but a strong sense of accomplishment and alleviation, the feeling he got when he returned home after a long, tiring trip. So he closed his eyes and let himself sink into the warm embrace, relinquishing to the true knowledge that it was Arthur, and only him, what held him pinned to the world. That Arthur's arms, as they had been in those hours of horrifying silence for his heart, were the ones holding him up, making him whole again. That his King's heartbeat and warm breathing were forcing his own heart to follow, his own lungs to function. It had always been like this. It would always be like this. Everything, forever, for _Arthur_.

A soft shuffling sound trespassed the bliss the two friends were enveloped in, and while Arthur ignored it, Merlin opened his eyes wearily, widening them when he saw two familiar knights staring at him with tears on their eyes and the most wide grins on their faces.

"Lancelot, Gwaine" he murmured, causing Arthur to stiffen and gasp. The King's tear filled gaze wondered around shortly before he found himself staring at the front. It was then when Arthur caught the Lady of the Lake's gaze, as only her eyes stayed above the water. He smiled softly as he pressed the hand that supported Merlin's head in a silent sign of possession and he bowed his head at her, mouthing _thank you_ with his lips. The Lady bowed lightly too and Arthur could hear her say "_Take care of him"_ inside his head before she disappeared below the water.

Arthur whirled his head to look at his knights with a smile on his face. He grinned at Merlin too and propped his tired friend's back against his chest, nodding softly in an invitation for them to interrupt the reunion.

With a muffled scream Gwaine almost threw himself to the floor, immediately enveloping Merlin in an amplified bear-hug, rambling something about never believing that he was dead for a start, and that he had scared him to complete soberness for the rest of his life. Merlin just chuckled lightly as he patted the knights back reassuringly and Gwaine let go to wipe stubborn tears that were spilling down his eyes.

"I think I got something in my eye" Gwaine sobbed as he passed a hand through his tear filled face "Mate, I've missed you" he ruffled Merlin's matted hair with affection before saying, voice cracking " Don't you dare do that again, my friend..."

Lancelot just looked at Merlin with a smile bigger and brighter than the rising sun, falling to his knees too and taking Merlin in a more careful hug before looking at his face, smiling still.

"Merlin...I..." he started, but then tears began streaming down the noble knight's eyes, and Lancelot choked with the words. He pulled Merlin into another hug while he cried "Oh Merlin! I thought we'd lost you!"

Merlin smiled against his friend's shoulder " It's not that easy to get rid of me"

He flinched slightly when someone let out a shaky breath on his ear. Then Arthur's voice said softly "You idiot...just...you idiot"

And just like that he was surrounded by his King's warm arms once more.

The warlock was shocked when he felt Arthur's forehead rest against his shoulder and then the soft sobs that started shaking his body again. He brought a shaky hand to Arthur's arm, trying to get him to lessen the hold he had around his chest. But the King just continued sobbing, even more than hysterically.

"Arthur..."

Merlin felt as if his heart was being stung with hot needles...was this what their separation, what his_ death_, had done to Arthur? His red eyes, the tired face, devoid of all color, the empty, haunted gaze...He had never seen Arthur so broken, not even when his father had died, not even when Gwen had been near death herself. It was as if Arthur wasn't even himself anymore. Where was the strong King that didn't let tears fall, that stood proud and tall in front of his people? Where was Arthur, the warrior, the one whose tears weren't worth even for his father?

He brought both of his shaking, pale hands to Arthur's, pulling even more insistently "_Arthur_, it's alright..."

But his friend just shook his head, saying in a whisper "Don't Merlin. I just don't want to let go...not _yet_"

Without warning, Merlin felt himself being turned over and manhandled into Arthur's chest. He let out a muffled whimper of surprise that was quickly shut by his face being squashed into his King's chest.

"You idiot, Merlin! How could you _do this to me_?"

Merlin understood the implied questions, and his heart throbbed painfully.

_How could you die on me?_

_How could you leave me alone?_

_How could you dare..._

Gwaine's indignant voice sounded from afar, somehow distorted "Stop, Princess, you don't want to break him again!"

Arthur didn't pay heed to his words and Merlin felt the King's arms tightening around him once more. Then he lowered his head until his cheek was resting on the top of Merlin's bloodied hair and closed his eyes in exhaustion and alleviation.

Arthur's heart was still racing with unthinkable happiness, although there were still hints of sorrow on his eyes and body, his soul was soaring through unmarred skies...

Because Merlin was fine, he was alive and breathing. Merlin was _breathing_ in his arms, where nothing could ever hurt him again.

_Never_ again.

He closed his eyes and let two stubborn tears fall.

Nothing would_ touch_ Merlin ever again.

"Arthur?"

He looked down to Merlin's inquisitive blue eyes. _Alive!_ the thought sent him spiraling into happiness.

"So you do care" his friend said in a whisper, his eyes filling with even more light. A faint smile traced his features.

For a response, Arthur ruffled Merlin's hair carefully, and he was surprised that his warlock's hair didn't have the print of his fingertips in it...Because he had passed his fingers through it, numbly and softly, while his tears were drank by his sobbing lips. He had done it so many times while he prayed for the dead weight on his arms not to be true, while he waited, with the smallest flicker of hope, for Merlin to _just wake up_...!

But at the alarmed gaze of Merlin he refused to let his mind remember and instead focused, with every little bit of his life, on those cerulean eyes that shone with affection and warmth.

Those blue eyes that shone for him. For Arthur.

"You idiot" he murmured, every drop of tenderness his courageous heart had acquired tasted in those two words that had come from playful insult to absolute fondness .

Merlin smiled, pure blue eyes dropping with exhaustion.

"Yes Arthur..." he said softly, letting his head rest contently against Arthur's chest, listening to the sweet-sounding beating of his other half's heart " Maybe I am. But I am _your_s...and I won't leave you,I _promise_. Never again, Arthur. This will never happen again"

And the King, with a dry mouth and a singing heart, only nodded.

Because, after all, his heart was complete, and the coin was unbroken.

* * *

><p><em>"All he had, in fact, was Merlin's shining promise."<em>

Stephen R. Lawhead, Arthur


	4. Worth Tears

Valentine's Day gift! A new chapter!

4th Chapter! Hope you all like it. I didn't need a long time to name it, though. It named itself :p

Thanks to Arnia for the lovely reviews! Aw, I'm so happy you actually listened to the Finale while reading it! A million blown kisses and hugs for you only :D

* * *

><p><strong>Fourth<strong>

**Worth Tears**

* * *

><p><em>No man is worth your tears<em>

_- King Arthur_

* * *

><p>For the second time in hours, Hunith heard a knock on her wooden door.<p>

She raised her head, weary, heavy, without emotion, and let out a soft sound as if to invite whoever was there to come in. In came Arthur Pendragon, eyes filled with tears, whispering something so quietly that Hunith had to strain herself to hear...

She cached her son's name, emotionally being spoken by the King's lips, and her heart throbbed painfully on her chest. What had happened?, was the deed done now?

"Arthur?" she muttered inquiringly.

For an answer, Arthur yanked, rather gently, someone's arm forwards and a chiseled, white bone face came into view.

...Hunith screamed.

Merlin advanced forwards and wrapped his arms around her, saying "_Mother_"

Time stopped.

And then, Hunith, hands shaking with wonder and disbelief took in her son's hands, hair, eyes, mouth, everything that made him Merlin. He was there, it was true, he was_ there_, with her. Merlin was_ alive_.There was a weak but steady pulse beneath her fingers, a laugh in the air, warm breathing tickling her ear as Merlin said softly "Mother" once more.

"Merlin" she answered.

And it was as if her soul was whole, heartbeat steadying and lungs working again.

She kissed and hugged and laughed with her son for hours to come.

Not _once_, between her blissful ecstasy, did Arthur Pendragon's eyes wondered away from Merlin's.

* * *

><p><em>"Rise and shine!"<em>

As he blearily opened his eyes, Amhar regarded the words with a strong urge to throw up. He looked over at George, who was standing there with a small smile on his lips.

Breakfast was served, it seemed. Fruits of all kinds, glazed drumsticks and fresh cheese were already presented on the large table. But no hunger came to the young man as he remembered the events from two nights ago and his eyes unwillingly filled with drops of sorrow.

_No man is worth your tears_

Shaking his blonde curls, the prince fixed George with a tired gaze.

"I'll have to ask you, my friend, to find something new to say." he said softly, so quietly, in fact, that George had to lean closer so that he could hear. " I don't think I want to wake up to _that_…everyday…and…" he closed his eyes, as if to oppress the memories that were coming back to haunt him…

_He died valiantly, as I have been told, taking a blow for the King_

"And neither will my father." he finished. One little tear escaped from his rigorous auto control and fell, immediately being soaked by the immaculate sheets.

"Sire…" George started, his face paling with dread. "I didn't mean…"

Amhar buried his face on his knees, pressing his lips tightly to contain the sobs that were threatening to break out "Please leave me." he whispered with as much authority as he could muster in his cracking voice.

George, ever the diligent servant, left without another word.

The Prince just sat there with face pressed against his bed sheets, trying to repress all the memories that were flooding back in his mind. For some reason, the soft, ethereal presence of his father filled the room with his strong voice.

_No man is worth your tears._

He remembered the first time he had heard that famous phrase. It was just after he had seen death's silent gaze on the piercing eyes of a guard who had died to protect him. The hollow cry that had filled his throat was soon shut by his father's strong arms around him, his soothing words, whispered almost like a mantra "It's alright, my son, it's alright…I've got you now. No man is worth your tears."

_No man is worth your tears.._

Merlin, who at the time was fulfilling his duties as godfather spectacularly, had taken into him to engrave some humanity into the little prince.

"_There are times..."_ Merlin had said, filling Amhar's innocent, big-eyed gaze with colorful beams of light he distractedly maneuvered with his fingers. _"were you can show some compassion and mercy. You need to be strong, little fellow, like your father. But you also need to be kind like your mother. And tears, believe it or not, are not a weakness."_

And Amhar, piercing brown eyes wide, had asked innocently. "Even _you,_ Uncle Merlin?"

Merlin had smiled _"Me? I've cried plenty of times."_

Retracting himself from the small part of his mind where he still could see Merlin smiling at him, Amhar let his tears fall.

To hell with his father.

The prince wept.

The prince wept for Merlin.

.

.

.

.

He found Galahad on the highest balcony, legs dangling over courtyard. The knight' lips were pressed together, eyes rimmed red ( _still_) and tousled, sweaty mahogany hair slack against his pale forehead.

He hadn't slept.

"How are you doing?"

Galahad turned to look at his prince and friend. Amhar immediately regretted the question when he saw the knight's anguished eyes.

"Not well I see" he murmured apologetically.

The knight of the Round Table scowled. "You think?" He closed his eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths, resting his head against the bars. He was trying not to break down and Amhar knew it. The fresh tears that stained the young prince's cheeks suddenly felt like rivers in his skin and he reached out to wipe them with trembling fingers when Galahad's hand shot forwards and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't" he whispered, looking deeply into Amhar's eyes "Tears cried for _Merlin _are not a shame, Amhar. Not even when your father says so."

Amhar closed his hand into a fist, sighing deeply and staring at the light filled blue sky.

"I know." he said.

.

.

.

.

It was hours later when the dreaded announcement was made.

"The King has arrived at the gates!"

Amhar took a deep breath, carefully arranged his dark green robes and looked at Galahad, sighing softly. The knight's Adam apple bobbled slightly as he swallowed his tears and nodded at his prince in a silent confirmation of loyalty and friendship.

Guinevere stepped in, followed by Leon, both red eyed and tremendously pale. With reluctance, the Queen went to his son's side, murmuring softly in his ear "Be strong for him"

Leon just stood next to Galahad, putting a gloved hand on his shoulder. When Galahad smiled sadly at him, Leon pursed his lips and sighed deeply.

"I'll have to stay regent, won't I, mom?" Amhar asked quietly as they, slowly -oh so slowly-started walking down the stairs of the palace. Each step seemed to guide into the horrifying reality no one wanted to accept, _the unmerciful nature of the cruel image they were about to see was too much..._so much in fact, that Galahad intentionally lingered in the middle of the staircase, stubbornly refusing to accept it.

"Let's go, Galahad." Leon said quietly as he pushed the young knight forwards, towards Guinevere. The Queen passed a hand through his shoulders and let it rest there, with the touch of a mother.

As they stood in the courtyard, hearts beating on their throats, tears started to run free. Gwen turned to Leon with a quick. "_excuse me_." and began to cry quietly as the knight hugged her. Galahad and Amhar just gazed into each others eyes, trying desperately to rub away the track of tears when hooves sounded near.

and then, _they_ were there.

Gwaine, jumping out of his horse in anticipation, Lancelot, climbing down with a wide _grin_ on his face...

and...Arthur, face lightened with the rays of the same sun that shone above them, blood still present on his armor.

Guinevere let out a cry when her eyes nailed themselves on the man walking besides the King. She fell to his knees, or would've if Amhar hadn't been there to stabilize her. Her son's eyes were almost as big as hers as he stared to the King's right.

It was Galahad who broke through the silence

_"MERLIN!"_

* * *

><p>King Arthur watched as his son, his wife and Galahad ran to his best friend, all crying, laughing and talking at the same time. Merlin directed him a look that said "<em> Who told them?"<em>

Arthur, head titling, cached Leon's moist eyes behind Gwen, and as the knight rushed forwards to wrap his arms around Merlin's lanky form he smiled. Gwen's arms were around him next. Slowly, he let his head fall into her shoulder, holding her as if she was holding him to earth.

"I think now it's time for a good tankard of mead. What do you say Leon?" Gwaine said happily, clapping the astonished knight's back " Care to join us, Lance?"

But Lancelot was to busy with Gwen hugging him while she muttered thank you over and over. Because she knew that Lancelot had kept his promise once again.

_"I will protect him with my life."_

And she just couldn't repay such devotion_...  
><em>

Arthur's sky blue eyes focused on his son's handsome face, arms still wrapped around Merlin like if he'd never let go. Merlin was talking quietly, forcing the young prince's eyes to face his and saying something among the lines of "... I'll never_ leave any_ of you"

Galahad, that cheery tall young man, put a hesitant but firm hand on his King's shoulders.

"I knew Leon was wrong!" he said, eyes glimmering with tears " I_ knew_ it."

* * *

><p>You guys! Did you know I almost forgot Hunith? I started this chapter from Amhar's point of view, and I was going to leave it that way until I remembered her. I am horrible! Imagine if I would have left her thinking her son was dead while he was alive and well in Camelot! Thank God for my convenient desire to read Captain Ozone's Young Hawk again :P<p>

Lots of Love on this Valentine's Day!


	5. Sinceritas

Now I finally sat down and forced myself to get it out because I'm starting to freak out about AP exams and I needed to get this done. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, despite it's rushed nature. :)**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Fifth<br>**

**Sinceritas**

* * *

><p>Sinceritas- Latin: honesty, sincerity.<p>

_In one's heart of hearts:_ In the deepest, innermost recesses of one's heart; in one's most private and pure thoughts or feelings.

.

_"Though it doesn't seem this way to Arthur, Merlyn is giving him a very thoughtful, kind sort of love. (…)Merlyn is willing to accept this in order to make Arthur feel better. At the same time, he feels very touched at Arthur's sadness."_

Book 1, Chapter 19 "The Once and Future King"

_._

_._

_Then death shall swipe upon the land_

_Brought together by the Once and Future King's hand_

_They will sigh and woe in their despair  
><em>

_The King's cry reaches Albion as he is brutally slain_

_Alas, the sea's dread is none too kind_

_his heart is dark as coal and twisted as sick vines_

_Bring forth, bring forth lights and torches_

_Vigil the night, lock your sons and daughters_

_Can you hear those cries ripping through the dark?_

_It is Emrys' pain as his heart is torn apart_

_._

_.  
><em>

_( this last quote is not a quote actually...It's suppose to be the prophecy that is mentioned in this chapter, or at least part of it. **It is my work**, so I'd appreciate respect, if you want to use _( although it is complete rubbish)_ it please ask me ;). I just thought it was fitting to have an actual prophecy about Camlann. BTW, Mordred means _" sea's dread"_ in Welsh and it also came from the French word _"Morte"_ which means death.)  
><em>

* * *

><p>He wasn't seeing anything. His eyes were lost in the middle of bright memories, of battles and of Mordred's face, of Morgana's shocked expression…Of Merlin…Oh, God…<em>of Merlin's…<em>

No. He wasn't seeing. He was _dreaming_. But as it happens, he had no control over his thoughts, over his actions, over his emotions. Emotions so deep and raw that they seemed to run through him with a knife, cutting every strand of self-control loose.

He had _managed_ it for three days. Three days of absolute silence, three days of Gwen's acute frowns, three days of Galahad's mindless chatters…three days of pretense.

Three days of glory for his city, three days of fabulous prizes being sent from all over the five kingdoms. Three days of a quiet, thoughtful Merlin.

Three days in which he gave the cold shoulder to his truest and dearest friend.

Merlin's eyes, those eyes that had been sightless and dull in Arthur's darkest hours, looked like if they were searching his soul, the compassion and understanding in them so vast that sometimes Arthur felt surrounded by a soft ocean of dark blue hues.

And he wasn't the only one who expressed concern. His own son, that brilliant young man with Gwen's warm brown eyes and Merlin's soft ways, had sat down with him and said, with simple sincerity, the understatement of a lifetime:

"_You are not alright, father…please talk to us."_

But what was there to say? He just needed time…he was sure that just with some time everything would be the way it used to be…

Three days he told himself that lie.

By the end of the third Guinevere snapped.

She took him by the shoulders, her hands looking extremely dark against his pale skin, devoid of its natural rosy color, and the endless love that shone in her eyes was comparable to Merlin's so much that it made Arthur's stomach churn painfully. He hadn't talked to his dear friend in almost three days after _it, _The battle of_ _Camlann_ _as one of the bards had named it_, _happened, and just their constant exchange of glances seemed to keep each other going. It was Merlin's way of telling his he would wait for him…he would wait for Arthur to say the first word.

Guinevere, obviously, didn't see it that way.

"_I know what you are going through, Arthur!"_ her words struck a chord inside his heart, a part of him he'd wanted to numb forever. But it was impossible. The way Gwen's nails dug into his shoulders, as if she was trying to make him feel the reality of her presence, just made the memories grow stronger.

"I know what you are going through, Arthur!" she had said, voice high pitched, scared and full of sincere worry. Sometimes it amazed him the resemblance between his wife and his son, and the way they both were extremely sensible at other's pain "I understand! Your sister is dead but…"

Her lips let out a soft breath before she closed her eyes in apprehension and opened then again, close to tears "But you have to get over it…" she looked at his face, fingertips barely brushing his pale cheek "_We _have to get over it…I know that you feel guilty Arthur but this is just not right. _Our _Morgana died years ago"

Arthur couldn't help but feel frustrated at Guinevere's words. Because she didn't _know_. She was unaware of what his deepest wound was, of what kept him awake at nights, sometimes going as far as to place a hand over his heart to make sure it was still beating and it was still complete.

"I know what you are feeling!" She stated desperately, eager for an emotion, any emotion to cross her husband's face.

"_Damn it!"_

She backed down because Arthur had never cursed while he spoke to _her_, and to hear those words coming from his mouth were the preamble to an even greater heartache "You don't know what I am feeling Guinevere!"

The fire returned to her. _How dare he! _How dare he speak to her as if she hadn't lost Morgana too!

"Morgana was my friend!"

What happened next was too out of character for Gwen to understand. Arthur_ laughed_. He actually laughed at her shocked face, no mirth in his voice.

"I am not talking about _he_r, Guinevere" he said "Her death was far too _little_ far too quick. I did everything to save her…and yet…I would've killed her a thousand times in that same _moment_…"

Gwen listened, mouth agape, to the weirdest words that ever left Arthur's throat. She couldn't _understand…_

"Arthur I can't believe…!" she choked on her words, emotions swelling up inside her chest and threatening to break the fragile barrier that kept her tears at bay "I can't believe you are actually saying that! She was your _sister_!"

Arthur went towards her in a blur, his finger raising threateningly to her eyes and Guinevere couldn't help but think dizzily that he had _never_ done so before…

"Don't ever mention that word to me again" Arthur whispered brokenly "She was not my sister or my friend. She wasn't…isn't_ anyone_ to me anymore"

Gwen tried to grasp the meaning of his words but couldn't. She just stared at him, trying to make her way into his husband's soul. She only found a newly built wall that her eyes couldn't penetrate.

"Arthur…tell me what_ happened_"

The High King of Albion closed his eyes. Guinevere was _pleading…_

"She took half of me away Gwen…" the words were so soft that Gwen doubted at first he had muttered them, and though it was the barest whisper…the pain in them, the heartache was too much and too raw for her to not notice it.

She _flinched._

"What do you mean?..._Oh_-"the answer came to her, because selfishly enough she had thought about Amhar and herself before going to the obvious direction of Arthur's thoughts. But yet, he had never talked so openly about the bond between himself and his best friend…

Arthur didn't seem to notice her musing, so utterly lost was he on his own. Gwen saw that his pale hands clenched in tight fist and his light eyes burned with a feverish grief, reliving memories too painful to be explained.

"But…"

She took a breath as her heart raced up and everything made sense "You told me it was just a flesh wound! That Leon was _wrong_!"

Arthur laughed mirthlessly "If by flesh wound you mean bleeding to death _in front of my eyes_ Guinevere, then it was _quite _a flesh wound!" he gulped and then said softly what Gwen had only realized now "I lied"

"But then….."Gwen placed a hand over her racing heart, eyes flickering momentarily towards the door and having to use all her will power to stop from running out and clutch to a very _alive _Merlin "But then…he _did die!_ But how…?"

Arthur didn't answer her question. His eyes looked lost in a distant, destiny born memory, fingers still digging to the palms of his large hands "So no, you _don't_ know Guinevere. You don't know how it is to lose half of what you are…_Ha!_ You don't even know how it is to lose someone _so close_ to you…"

Gwen listened, understanding Arthur's grief but feeling frustration burning inside her nonetheless when those barely thought words left Arthur's mouth "My father…"

"I lost my father too Guinevere" Arthur interrupted her, as casually as if they were talking about the weather "and still, I'd prefer to lose _him _any day than even have the faintest memory of what I felt when I knew…."

He stopped abruptly, closing his eyes and Gwen was shocked when he saw two _tears _slide out of Arthur's eyes. Her husband _never _cried…._never…._

That sign of vulnerability nearly broke her heart. Letting all her rightful anger and barely concealed confusion in the back of her mind, she gently hugged Arthur to herself, resting her head on his shaking chest and closing her eyes.

"When you knew _what_ my love?" she asked softly.

Arthur buried his head into her hair and Gwen, still shocked, felt water running down her dark curls.

"When he knew he would have to keep living with half of his soul"

Gwen turned towards the gentle voice, eyes widening immensely when she saw Merlin standing there, a soft smile tugging his lips upwards. The warlock advanced towards the center of the room, opening his arms gracefully at the exact same time that Arthur raised his weary head.

"Come on Arthur…"Merlin said very softly, as a father coaxing a small child into waking from a nightmare "You could've save all the drama and just talk to the only one who will _ever _understand…but you had to be a big headed prat and make everything about you, didn't you?"

The teasing note at the end of his words was answered with a quiet chuckle from Gwen but only a blank stare from the after mentioned prat, who looked like a deer pointed by a crossbow.

Gwen had never seen Arthur so vulnerable.

Merlin's smile faded when Arthur didn't much as stared at him and Gwen couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. What did her friend expected? For Arthur to go crying into his arms?

"Leave us Gwen" Merlin said after a few moments of silence. She looked at him, not wanting to leave her husband alone in such a state but Merlin beamed at her, clearly knowing what she was thinking about "He'll be fine. When has he ever been in danger with me around?"

Gwen allowed a small smile to curve her lips upwards, walking towards Merlin and planting a soft, gentle kiss on his forehead before going out, closing the door quietly behind her.

Merlin waited until the door closed entirely before turning to Arthur, who was still worryingly silent. No sobbing, no crying, no nothing.

"Arthur…"

He didn't much as blinked and Merlin took that as a good sign. He advanced a few tentative steps, still letting a generous amount of space between them.

"Arthur…" he repeated, as softly as he could, as if not to scare his friend "Please _talk to me_"

Arthur shrugged, still looking down like a stubborn child

"About what?"

Merlin's gaze softened considerably and he said, with a strained chuckle and barely concealed concern "about what you were telling Gwen only moments ago, you cabbage head…you shouldn't push people away like you've being doing for the past couple of days…."

Arthur leveled his gaze, only a hint of surprise in his sky-blue eyes

"You thought I was letting it slide?" Merlin asked disbelievingly "I may have been dead but it doesn't mean…."

He didn't finish the sentence because Arthur raised a hand abruptly and his face contorted into a mask of pure pain.

"Please don't" he murmured. His hand came to his forehead; massaging the age lines that were subtly appearing "don't you_ dare_ tease me about this…"

"I wasn't teasing you about it…I was teasing myself" Merlin said rapidly but soon realized it was the wrong thing to say when Arthur's enraged eyes turned towards him. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he congratulated his skills to annoy Arthur…_now he would talk_….

Arthur walked towards him, standing a few centimeters away, trembling as his chest drew in heavy breaths. Merlin stared at him with calm eyes, extending a hand to touch Arthur's shoulder….

"You want me to talk?" Arthur's throat looked like if it was going to split in half, his eyes reddened by clear tears and face pale with dread "_Fine! _" he quickly but with extreme gentleness slapped the back of the warlock's head. Merlin looked up at him with disbelieving eyes but never got a chance to open his lips because Arthur's nails were suddenly digging into his arms like if he was trying to find a pulse through the flesh.

"You…you died on me _idiot!"_ he screamed despairingly "You went and _DIED ON ME! _ Do you want me to talk about _that_?_" _

Merlin, unfazed by the scene, just nodded calmly "Yes" he said "I want you to tell me what's on your mind"

Arthur turned away from him in a blur, going towards the wooden table and smashing both of his fists down.

The sound reverberated through the room, but neither of them stirred. Merlin's eyes glimmered too, but his were like two giant orbs of blue light, shedding clarity into Arthur's darkness. The King raised his weary head and looked straight into those eyes, communicating a million emotions that could not be named.

"I was furious..."The High King of Albion whispered finally. "I was furious with Morgana, with you...but mostly with _myself_. Because of my inability to protect _you_, my protector, my guardian..." his head hung low and Merlin could see the first tears, like glistening pearls, slide through his cheeks "my utter failure as your King and friend"

Merlin bit his lip, advancing slowly towards the shaking figure of his best friend.

"It was never your failure" he murmured gently, trying to assure Arthur through his eyes, placing one of his pale hands over his heart as if to impart sincerity to his words "_Never_ yours...and never your burden to take either. It is my duty to protect _you_. Your duty is to protect the people of Camelot"

Arthur released a pained smile as he wiped the tears running down forcefully with his thumbs. "You truly keep being an _idiot_...do you expect me to believe that this goes only one way?" he shook his head, huffing lightly "No, Merlin. Last time I checked a coin had _two_ sides not just one"

His friend let out a sigh advancing with even more reluctance towards his King, his expression an odd cross between painful understanding and deep care. It was the_ same_ expression, Arthur noted in his hazed mind, that Guinevere wore when something was upsetting Amhar.

"I know" Merlin whispered, locking his eyes with Arthur's, willingly trying to communicate something unspoken between them, a reality, a truth that was all too high to pass by human lips "I _know_"

And by the gods, did he _knew_. He knew that even without any reassurance at all, without the possibility of a gratifying outcome, with the prophecies swirling in the back of his mind he would do_ anything_ to keep Arthur from slipping away from him. He had done so a few days ago...

His adored King, his dear friend had known nothing, nothing _at all_ of the desperate game, the disaster that could unfold from_ that_ battle. And Merlin had made sure that his innocence remained unmarred, untouched by the dark thoughts that took his breath away as the trumpets started sounding...

He had relied on the power bestowed upon him by the Old Religion and the remembrance of every single time he had defied destiny and won a victory. He had closed his eyes that same day, while Arthur thought how to best approach Morgana, and _prayed_ to those he could not see, but that were, indeed, part of him.

_Please, take me. But not him..**.never** him..._

He had seen Mordred...and the thought of the small, hate-filled boy had made him shiver to the very core of his being...

_"Merlin...are you trembling?"..._

_"It's nothing Arthur"_

He only hoped... _prayed_ that someone somewhere had heard his wishes, his heart's pleas. It looked like they _had_...but at what cost?

"How did I even_ lived_ before you came Merlin?" the King's voice was nothing but a shuddering whisper and finally,_ finally_, the first sob came forth. His shaking hands found his face, burying it securely between the calloused skin. But tears are not accustomed to stay hidden, and _this_ tears even more so. Merlin watched, shaken to the core by the force of his friend's pain, brilliant, clear tears slide through the fingers of his King.

_At what cost indeed?_

"You didn't know..." he answered softly, allowing a few tears to escape his eyes as well "Just as I didn't know either...But Arthur...you had to, as did I. And we survived...didn't we?"

He didn't intended it, but the soft, almost unnoticed note of doubt impregnated his last words, as if his voice was asking_ him_ the same question.

_Didn't we?_

He could remember Hunith's brilliant smile at his early days in Ealdor, climbing trees with Will, eating apples that he magicked out of his mother's cupboards...

But then...whenever he thought about it, he could see that his life took a different color, a higher, deeper meaning after meeting Arthur. He was annoying and prattish but nevertheless, the brilliance and clarity that invaded his mind from that moment forth was...invigorating.

It was as if he had spent 19 years of his life underwater and Arthur had been the sun above the blue waves.

_we survived...didn't we?_

...He...he was not sure.

King Arthur shook his head, wiping a hand across his cheeks and nevertheless, smiling without mirth "_Yes_ we did. But I am not very sure how"

Merlin smiled softly "If you want me to tell you the truth...me neither"

Arthur smiled at him, but then the tears came at his own accord. Merlin remembered that prattish, proud Arthur who never let his emotions show...But this was a vulnerable, hurt and worn Arthur who had seen far too many battles and too many deaths...including the one he could not possibly _survive..._

"I killed her, you know?" Arthur whispered softly. And Merlin couldn't help but shudder at the implications of the tone his friend was using. Because it was dead, heartless and merciless, as if he had done nothing but slaughter a deer with his crossbow while going hunting. Devoid of all emotions, his King's voice was that of Uther when killing brought him a sick feeling of joy and accomplishment...

_No._ His Arthur was not like that...

"_Arthur.._."

"And I still don't feel any remorse at all"

Merlin was awaiting the statement but it still _hurt_. To think that his decision had forced Arthur to kill the only family he had left and taken the gift of compassion from him...He never _wanted_ this...

"Arthur..."

But as he advanced, placing one hesitant, pale hand on Arthur's broad shoulder, the King's fingers closed around his wrists, digging into the pale skin, reminding Merlin of that first moments when he had woken up to a destroyed Once and Future King.

"She laughed..." Arthur said, eyes vacant and distant. His mouth was a grim line of pain "She laughed at you... _Merlin_..."

Merlin had no doubt she had...and he closed his eyes to try and stop the tears of remorse that were threatening to spill. What had Morgana thought, after all that time? Apparently, she had simply laughed at the obvious truth that Emrys couldn't hurt her anymore...

Arthur's low and pained stream of conversation brought his mind back to the present, where Arthur hung his head low and his hands trembled from his place on Merlin's upper arms. He bowed his head to look into Arthur's eyes which were clouded with an emotion Merlin could not place but that, somehow, brought forth what was deep in Arthur's heart. The next words, however, stopped dead his futile efforts to say something.

"and I had to leave you..._Oh God_...I had to leave you because my desire to kill her was stronger than the _need_ to keep you close to me..." he let out a dried laugh "or what was left of you anyway"

That did it. No longer caring if Arthur pushed him away or squirmed Merlin set his jaw and forced Arthur's hands out of his wrists, maneuvering to take the King's own with one of his hands. He pressed Arthur's palm to his chest, right above his beating heart, looking deeply into the eyes of the man that was his other half.

"This..." Merlin said softly, placing his own hand above his King's "This is a beating heart Arthur. A living heart. I'm here..." his other hand found its place above the first one, squeezing gently "And I am not leaving. This is my place" He nodded towards Arthur with a half-smile, sad and soft "...Besides _you_"

Arthur felt tears unbounded now behind his eyelids, and his heart expanded as though it needed those words to be whole again. Those bright eyes of his dearest friend bore into him, reaching for his soul and making it lighter with the shining promise that had left this man he needed above and beyond everything else in his entire existence. The knowledge that it was just a nightmare_ -a real, vivid and horrid nightmare-_but that as long as he felt that heart beating below his fingertips, as long at that heart gave force to half of his own...it would _never_ happen again.

He'd finally understood the reality behind the phrase that had sent him into hysterical laughter the first time he heard it. _Two sides of the same coin..._

Oh, but how could he stay away from the warmness and the reassurance that Merlin's hands on his own gave? He had forbidden himself to feel and talk about the way Morgana had torn half of his soul open...

Could he now, stop the mad happiness that invaded his senses every time Merlin's soft heartbeat reverberated through his fingers?

Merlin just looked at him, as a mother studying her ailing child, as a father reaching for his lost son, as a brother waiting for the first movement to be made.

And Arthur did. He did what Merlin had been expecting him to do all along, and even if Merlin could count the times Arthur had done this with his fingers, it never ceased to amaze him the sheer empathy he shared with his friend.

Arthur pulled him into a hug.

It was desperate, abrupt and frantic. But yet...

It was gentle and heartwarming the way his King pulled him close, as if with that demonstration of deep care he could say everything that was unsaid between them. As the warlock wrapped his arms around his King and closed his eyes he did not speak...not even when Arthur buried his golden head on his warlock's bony shoulder and muttered affectionately "You_ idiot..._"

Truly, it felt like if the separation had been almost unbearable and Merlin knew it. It was in moments like this, in which his dear friend was at arm's length, in which he could almost see the tension from the newly healed thread of destiny dissipating than he realized how much it must have hurt Arthur...

"You are becoming a sentimental girl, you know that?" he whispered playfully, although he knew he was being hypocritical. What were those bright rivers running down his cheeks now?...

"Shut up _Mer_lin" was the much awaited retort, and Merlin couldn't help but smile widely at the familiarity of the phrase. His light eyes wondered around the room,seeing a young manservant retorting playfully with his prince on that very chambers. Who would've thought they would be standing in the same spot -by the lively fire besides the window- noble, legendary and equal at each other's eyes, with a broken Arthur who actually shed tears crushing him in a hug?

"There's something I don't understand..." Arthur said as he pulled away, his hands never leaving Merlin's shoulders, looking intently into the dark blue orbs of his best friend.

Merlin smiled gently, albeit a bit sadly."What, old friend?"

_"Why?"_

The context was never spoken loudly, but the understanding between those two half's of the coin was enough. Averting his gaze from Arthur's, he bit his lip and looked downwards. Arthur's gaze followed.

"...Merlin...?"

Letting out a sigh, Merlin shook his head softly and faced his destiny again. He'd once promised Arthur he would not keep secrets from him. He would _not_ break that promise.

"Because I thought you were strong enough..." He murmured gingerly, ignoring Arthur's pained expression "Because you were always the reason for _my_ existence. It was not the other way around..."

"So Mordred was _right_!" Arthur said, his blue eyes widening immensely, hands tightening protectively around Merlin's shoulders, as if fearing his friend would slip away from him again "and I thought...!"

But Merlin's own eyes had widened too, and the barely concerned fear in them was echoed by the trembling of his voice "Did Mordred say something to you Arthur?"

The Once and Future King looked at him and Merlin felt his heart quickening. Just like that...he _knew_. The realization of what that wrecked child had told his precious friend hit him like a slap on the face. Had all his effort...all his care been in _vain_ at the end?

"He told me the prophecies Merlin" Arthur's face wrinkled for a moment, the soft age lines appearing again over his forehead. Pursing his lips and swallowing the burning sensation those words left on his throat, Arthur continued monotonously "He told me about his destiny...and the outcome of the battle"

Even if Merlin already knew, he felt his heart twist painfully inside his chest "_Oh God_ Arthur..."

"I was not afraid Merlin" Arthur said gently "I was prepared. It was only fitting there are also prophecies about my death anyway..."

_"It's alright…I'm glad you're here…"_

_"You're not going to die, you prat, I'm going to heal you right now"_

_ "too…late…"_

The memory struck him like a lighting bolt inside his head. His recollection of the battle was hazy and surrounded by pain but he did remember those words from Arthur...and the sheer pain they had inflicted on him

"You _did_ know"

"I was prepared" Arthur repeated gingerly " I'm way too old to fight destiny now" His face darkened and once again his beard seemed to shine with the rays of the setting sun. Pure resentment and anger seeped through his voice as he said that which hurt him the most "It seems you're not, though"

Merlin's shoulders slouched as a familiar feeling of guilt set on his stomach. But despite the pain he had caused Arthur...could he had stepped aside and let his King be killed even if he _wanted_ to?

"I..."

"You decided to put me through it all instead" Arthur said derisively, a colorless laugh erupting from his throat.

His hands tightened even more on the warlock's shoulders before he let go all of the sudden and Merlin found himself staring at the muscular back of a seething Arthur. He shook his head, bright tears beginning to form behind his eyelids as he reached for his King's wrist with his fingers.

"You know how much you mean to me Arthur" he murmured quietly. Because Arthur _had_ to know already the implication of his words, hadn't it been clear through the years? Why couldn't Arthur _understand_? "I've never hidden that from you. You are and always will be my_ sole_ reason for being alive...I..." He felt the tears running down his cheeks and he made no move to dry them "_You_ are the Once and Future King...you had to go on..."

The sole pain in his voice struck Arthur like if he had managed to touch a chord from his heart, and Arthur's hands closed in tight fists. The King turned around, Merlin's hand still clinging to his wrist, and fixed his best friend with a pain filled glare.

"You expected me to_ just go on_...!"

But before Arthur could finish shouting all the desperation and fear that was trapped inside his heart something inside Merlin's cerulean eyes _snapped_. He stood up in all his height, eyes ablaze, and the warlock Emrys shone through "Why are you so damn _blind_, Arthur! Don't you _see_?"

Arthur stopped dead as Merlin's hand tightened around his wrist in a vice-like grip and his eyes shone feverishly, boring into his. It looked like if his dear friend wanted him to see something inside of his soul by the clarity in them, the truthful and sincere gaze that burned a hole on his own spirit.

"See what exactly...?"

"You are a total and utter prat, Arthur Pendragon!" the shift from guilt to anger had Arthur's head spinning. With a slightly incredulous look he tried to retort, but Merlin's expression stopped him. His friend's chest was drawing heavy breaths, eyes sparking with blue fire and in that moment every single rational thought was thrown away because Merlin was obviously suffering on the light of something he'd said...

And something in Merlin _broke_, as a dam that had been built years before, hidden behind goofy smiles and _"Let's have you lazy daisy's"_. A dark, cruel, heartbreaking sorrow that he had been required to bear alone, forced to be silent by devotion and love, the need to shield the man in front of him.

"I was _meant_ to protect you!" Merlin screamed to the top of his lungs "It had always been like this and it _always will be_! You don't know how hard it was for me, to hear_ that_ prophecy and to be in _that_ battle! You _don't know anything_ about my burden because I've always been too damn worried about _your own_! Well, I think is time you understand, _my King_, what I've _felt_ through the years every time _you_ did something stupid!"

He stopped, drawing more heavy breaths and looking down, placing a pale hand upon the bridge of his nose. Arthur stepped back, the expression on his face unreadable.

And then Merlin opened his eyes and Arthur could _see._ He could see how much love, affection, loyalty and pain shone inside of them, inside those dark blue hues, swirling and interlacing between them with only one word to unite them all. His name. _Arthur._

"I just...I've always done _everything_ for you Arthur" Merlin said softly, looking up into Arthur's eyes, unconsciously rubbing a small tear from his cheek "at least I could _die_ happy...knowing that you were safe. Couldn't I _at least_ rest in peace?... Are you going to demand _that_ from me too?"

The last phrase was barely a whisper, and Merlin huddled upon himself, all his spark gone away and replaced by absolute weariness. Arthur froze, unable to think while he looked at his friend, his anger drained away as a fire abruptly dying down. He couldn't avert his gaze from Merlin's. So lost was he on his own dark pain that he hadn't considered Merlin could possibly feel something like _this_.

He sucked a trembling breath, desperately trying to find words,_ anything_ to console him.

Then Merlin lowered his eyes to the floor and Arthur's heart skipped a beat.

"Merlin..." he cracked out, stepping closer. Merlin looked at him, fixing him with those brilliant blue eyes but didn't move, didn't say a word, didn't accuse Arthur of being a dollop head...

_...Could it be that Merlin truly had been through this pain all along?_

"...Merlin..."

Not receiving an answer, Arthur closed the gap between them, kneeling besides the other side of the coin and flickering his gaze through the pale skin, the messy black hair, the trembling hands...

_"Merlin"_ he said yet again, placing both of his large hands on the scrawny, trembling shoulders. Merlin's blue eyes searched his own and he drew a breath, something similar to regret shining on his pupils.

"Arthur I..."

And Arthur couldn't let Merlin say what he knew was about to pass the warlock's lips. It was too much...He had hurt Merlin _so much_ throughout his life and it looked like he had done so again. He couldn't let Merlin apologize for being the pillar, the strength he needed through every second of his life, nor could he apologize for Arthur's stupidity...not anymore.

He had spent years trying to make up for everything he had done to his warlock, and now with one phrase it looked like he'd brought it all down. He'd gone too far this time, pulled to hard, made Merlin give up _so much_...and then throwing it all on his face after his friend had made the ultimate sacrifice...

He truly did not _deserve_ him.

The High King of Albion did not deserve this wonderful, idiotic, loyal, wise friend...but yet Merlin's _love_ was too grand, too perfect to ever pull himself away from his King...if not, why hadn't he done so?

Merlin sighed softly, closing his eyes "Arthur...I'm-"

"No, Merlin" Arthur interrupted gently, placing his arm around Merlin's shoulders and pulling him closer, locking his arms around his friend and whispering fiercely in his ear "No, don't you _dare_ say you are sorry" he struggled with his words, trying to let all the care and affection sweep through "I've been a prat, an idiot and a dollop head...and absolutely selfish" He pulled away to look into Merlin's eyes with his own, to pass on the important message that was his own reverence at Merlin's pure heart "You are right. You always are...and I'm...I'm _so_ sorry..."

He pressed Merlin to his chest, just as he had done on the lake's shore, once more hating himself for his blindness and proud heart.

There was no more pride, no more hesitation, no more holding back from the person he cared about above _all_ others. He was not going to let Merlin take all the weight of their destiny on his own again, he was not going to let Merlin stand alone. Even if his whole life went by only to pay that great debt he had with the other half of his soul, he would do it gladly, if only to see Merlin heart healed at last...

Gaius had once told him that Merlin's weight was a great one...he just hadn't realized how truly heavy it was...how truly heartbreaking...until he had almost _lost_ him...

_Why...?_

But it wasn't too late. He still had Merlin by his side, he still had time to make up for everything...everything he had put Merlin trough...

He felt Merlin's arms tightening across his back and then the soft sobs that came from his throat, tugging at his heart strings. He rested a hand on Merlin's head just as Merlin let out a quivering laugh. "It's just that...you're alive Arthur...you're _alive_...!..."

All the fear, all the desperation and sheer horror he had felt since hearing the prophecy had twisted at his heart with such cruelty that he still was surprised he had managed to stand on that battlefield. But now, with Arthur's arms around him there was nothing to fear because his heart was _beating_ in unison with his and Mordred was _gone..._

And the High King of Albion couldn't stop his own trembling laugh, his breath ghosting through Merlin's shoulder as he answered with his whole heart "And you're alive too, Merlin..._thank God_ you're alive too"

_Thank God you're alive too._

_._

_._

_._

_-supra mortalitatis-_

_._

_.  
><em>

In the middle of a bright white light, resting deep in the lake of Avalon, Kismet smiled. Her timeless eyes looked up to the dragon lord as he let out a soft chuckle.

"What do you say now, Balinor? Didn't I told you your son would be alright?"

Balinor's eyes didn't lose their weariness "What about the prophecy? It didn't fulfill itself..._why?"_

Kismet looked amused "Why, indeed? Tell me, Balinor, what do you know about your son?"

Balinor's hazel eyes bore into hers before he passed a hand through his salt and pepper beard " He is Emrys, The last dragon lord and the most powerful warlock to ever exist"

"Very good" Kismet agreed wholeheartedly, interlacing her tiny hands "But you left out something, the most _vital_ thing, I would dare say"

Balinor's gaze didn't flutter and Kismet grinned widely, blonde curls bouncing as she stood in her toes to gaze directly into the dragon lord's eyes.

"He is Arthur's friend, protector, brother and _his other half_" Kismet said almost tenderly as she looked at a pair of scales that were placed on the floor besides her, the same pair of scales she had shown Emrys, that is.

"Do you see this Balinor?"

She made a soft gesture with her delicate fingers and one of the platforms fell to the ground

"What just happened?" she asked, blinking her eyes up innocently as she let herself fall to the ground in a graceful manner.

"One of them fell..." Balinor answered quietly as he sat by her side, mimicking her action "It is unbalanced"

"Very well!" the little girl clapped her hands delightedly, smiling widely "but then, what happens to the other side?"

The other weighting platform was swinging back and forth, as a dry leaf in a storm.

"It is..._weak_" Balinor noted softly.

"That's true. You see, Balinor, your son was brought to the world to be the platform that would stay, even after Arthur came here to join us" she looked down at the one the brilliant white ground and picked it up with her flower-like hands.

Balinor looked at her, his dark eyes pensive "Then _what happened_?"

Kismet's lovely eyes narrowed and she pointed at the ground. Little vines were slowly circling, choking and breaking the platform that was still attached to the scale, breaking it slowly until with a _snap_, it completely collapsed.

She sighed, shook her beautiful light curls and recited in a sing-song voice:

_"Alas, the sea's dread is none too kind_

_his heart is dark as coal and twisted as sick vines"_

"_Hate_ happened. And pain." she looked suddenly older, her eyes swirling with wisdom that made her face even more beautiful " The witch and the druid boy did managed to break what destiny took so many delicacies on unfolding. They broke the balance"

Balinor looked into her eyes as she watched the broken scale with sadness "So, for the sake of the Once and Future King, you brought Merlin back"

"_Arthur_ brought Merlin back" she corrected softly, and then she smiled "It was bound to happen. They are two sides of the same coin you know?"

"But_ how_?"

"Hate is a powerful force. So powerful, in fact, that it can destroy kingdoms...but..." she smiled, her face lightening up like the sun each morning "so is _love_. So powerful, in fact, that it can break the thread of destiny...and make it anew"

Balinor looked into her eyes with his and she nodded softly, hair dancing care freely in the gentle wind.

* * *

><p><em>The destiny of man is in his own soul.<em>

Herodotus


	6. Worth & Glory

This is a rather lengthy chapter so…be prepared. I'd totally understand if you want to go get tissues and come back because there are 3 major character deaths here…* ducks* please don't kill me! :s ( I trimmed this chapter down SO many times...that's what took me so long...but it still exceeds 10,000 words! * sighs* )

Anyway, this is supposed to be King Arthur's passing as I envisioned it from when I started writing this. It is really long and full of angst (TeglanL74 I know you'll love it ;D ) although it does have a happy ending! Sort of…

Thanks to everyone who has been with me through all the chapters and all the tears and such, I really cannot put into words how happy you've all made me. Even if you don't review but just read this chapter * ergo, I don't know you even came across this story* your still in my heart, stranger :D

First of all I have to thank everyone and everything who inspired me while writing the final chapter to my first story ever (If you count this and Camlann as a full story).

Many thanks and hugs to Captain Ozone, her amazing Young Hawk inspired one of the scenes from this chapter.

"Actually, I had to wake both of them," Hunith said. "Those two fell asleep on each other last night in Gaius's chambers."

So thanks Oz for your absolute brilliancy and for making this chapter possible :P

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Hugs to Colin Morgan. He mentioned somewhere, I believe in an interview, that for the 5th season he'd have a little stubble to show that Merlin was growing up, which makes sense since Mordred is going to be seventeen. Thanks Colin! Thanks to you now Merlin has a beard in this chapter :D

.

Claps to the amazing Avatar by James Cameron (I won't give spoilers but there's a quote I used ;) )

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Bows and hat off to J.K Rowling for the Harry Potter series and for the lines that inspired a lot of this chapter too:

Taken from HP & The Half Blood Prince:

Harry wiped his grazed forearm upon the stone: having received its tribute of blood, the archway reopened instantly. They crossed the outer cave, and Harry helped Dumbledore back into the icy seawater that filled the crevice in the cliff.

"It's going to be all right, sir," Harry said over and over again, more worried by Dumbledore's silence than he had been by his weakened voice. "We're nearly there... I can Apparate us both back... don't worry..."

"I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "_I am with you."_

Lastly, kudos to the amazing Chris O'Donell: I was watching TV the other night and this old version of the three musketeers came on ( 1993) Can you guys believe that I was practically staring at Amhar in the face? O.o. I squealed and asked my friend what actor was that, Here it is. Chris O'Donell as d'Artagan. He is Amhar (body wise. In my mind he had hair way lighter and bright brown eyes) But seriously, it is him! The curls, the skin, the face! Oh. My God.

And you may have noticed there is now a feature for covers. This cover is a painting of King Arthur from the Renaissance, but it's supposed to represent Amhar ;)

Thanks for standing my rambling, Now, please enjoy the product of my overtired brain. :D

* * *

><p><strong>Sixth<br>**

**Worth & Glory  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>But when that moan had past for evermore,<em>

_The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn_

_Amazed him, and he groaned, "The King is gone."_

_And therewithal came on him the weird rhyme,_

_"From the great deep to the great deep he goes."_

_-The Passing Of Arthur_

_Alfred Lord Tennyson_

_._

_Thanks to our prophet_

_For this so wish'd for satisfaction;_

_And hereby now we learn that always fate_

_Must be observ'd, what ever that decree:_

_All future times shall still record this story,_

_Of Merlin's learned worth and Arthur's glory._

_- THE CHILDE HATH FOUND HIS FATHER_

_ascribed to_

_William Rowley_

.

_And I know that you are always there, there  
>a moon made for me<br>always illuminated for me  
>because of me, because of me, because of me . ..<em>

_Andrea Bocelli "For You I'll Fly_

* * *

><p>A blond man glanced pensively in front of him, dark brown eyes lost in faraway memories and in more recent, urgent ones. His hands were entwined below his strong chin, supporting his face as he closed his eyes and pursed his lips.<p>

It was a bright summer morning; a gentle breeze flew throughout the old construction as the castle, little by little, came to life. There was the laughter of young apprentices echoing through the hallways and the sound of easy spells that brimmed with the warmth of the rising sun. There was the teasing and banter of the knights, skipping through the stone corridors to reach the training field as they were challenged by their friends to run faster.

But this man, with his gentle gaze and powerful presence, looked lifeless and tense, as if the happiness and warmth of the new morning could not reach him. But then, as the sun reached the table he was sitting on, he smiled, perhaps remembering happier times…

"My Lord?"

Amhar, Prince of Camelot, snapped his head upwards as he heard the voice. It was a guard, licking his lips nervously and shuffling on his feet.

"What is it?" he asked softly, smiling at the man as only his mother would do. The man looked even more uncomfortable if it was possible and he started stammering.

But thankfully for him and for the now worried Prince, a figure came running down the hallway, never minding he was dressed with the attire of the Knights of the Round Table and that a good number of new citizens stared at him in confusion. Of course, there were those who already knew the red haired knight and just rolled their eyes at the scene that repeated itself each morning.

"Amhar!" Galahad called out as he tried to regain his footing, pushing the guard aside without a moment of thought. The man didn't took offense, though, he already knew what the knight was going to say, something that he had failed to blurt out thanks to his love for their gentle Prince.

Amhar approached the knight swiftly, placing a hand on his best friends shoulder "Galahad…?" He asked uncertainly.

Galahad looked at him sadly, and said, voice solemn.

"I think it's time."

* * *

><p>"Seriously, Merlin, what is wrong with you today? You look like if I am going to lift the ban on magic all over again."<p>

"What, there's something wrong with me being happy?"

"When you smile stupidly like that…"

"Oh, don't make me start on you and Gwen the day after the wedding…"

Amhar sighed heavily and shook his head in amusement at his father's and Merlin's banter but he couldn't help but wince at how weak his father's voice sounded. He caught Galahad's gaze and steeled himself before carefully opening the door to his father's chambers.

The High King of Albion was lying on his bed, a bunch of fluffy pillows propping him into a semi-sitting position. His face was illuminated by a wide smile while he retorted to his Court Sorcerer as heatedly as he could in his weakened state, something about it being "none of Merlin's business."

The man in question was sitting by the King's bedside, rolling his eyes at the moment, with one hand in Arthur's brow and another one holding a golden cup filled with reddish wine. There were few wrinkles on the corner of his mouth and eyes, as well as grayish hairs replacing his normally black locks on his temples. His lips tugged upwards in a smile that raised his gray beard too, and reached his lively – never changing- blue eyes, gleaming with humor and mischief.

"I may answer that question now that you're not fit to clobber me around with goblets."

King Arthur's eyebrows rose high, almost lost on his grayish blond hair and he snatched the goblet from Merlin's hand and threw it to his head with impeccable aim. Galahad and Amhar gasped and Arthur smirked triumphantly at Merlin's face, drenched in red wine.

The warlock looked unfazed by this, and with a movement of his hand he promptly got rid of the mess. He bent down to take the goblet from the floor but a low hiss passed his lips.

Amhar had to roll his eyes when his father bolted upright in his bed, narrowing his eyes at the part of Merlin's head that he could see. "Merlin?" he demanded.

Merlin grabbed the goblet and turned to Arthur with a smile "It's nothing, I have to remember that I'm not as young as I used to be, that's all."

Arthur rolled his eyes as he plummeted back to the pillows, breathing hard. It looked as if being upright took away all the color from his cheeks "Seriously Merlin, you should know. Didn't you do that back healing spell a few years ago?"

"It's wearing off, I guess." Merlin replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Awkwardly glancing at Galahad, Amhar cleared his throat. Both of the men looked at them, and Arthur smiled radiantly at his son.

"Amhar!"

The Prince advanced towards the King, sitting at the edge of the bed and placing a hand on his father's shoulder "How are you, father?" he asked softly.

Arthur clasped his son's hand on his own. It still amazed him how much Amhar reminded him of Guinevere, but yet his strong facial features were Uther's. Of course, the softness of those just eyes combined with the proud stance and leveled head made Amhar more than fit to be a King…and a _great_ one.

It was true that all of Amhar's calmness and softness was balanced by his right hand, Galahad, with his cheerfulness and spark, with his annoying manners and little to none care for the rules. It warmed Arthur's heart to know that his son had a guardian by his side just as he had Merlin…

Speaking of which…

He looked over to his Court Sorcerer, who was talking quickly and quietly with Galahad by a corner. He could see what Merlin was talking about by Galahad's facial expressions, which made him fit for an actor if he wasn't such a much needed and exemplary knight. They ranged from worry to horror and sadness in an amazing speed and sharpness.

Because Arthur was _dying…. _and he knew it. The feeling of his strength slowly draining away was not something he liked and not something he was accustomed to…and it sincerely irked him, but what was he to do?

The diagnostic of the newly appointed physician had Merlin huff indignantly and himself roll his eyes.

_Age._

It was inevitable. He had ruled Camelot through almost 50 years, a Golden Age for Albion. But there were too many battles, too much grief and too many losses weighing down his heart; he had pushed his body too far, demanded too much…

And life was catching up with him.

Merlin had accepted grimly that he couldn't save Arthur from getting old but that didn't mean it kept him from trying. The warlock had forced feed him some disgusting things that only ended making him worse and more irritated.

"I feel like I did thirty years ago." He answered Amhar jokingly but his son only raised an eyebrow on a Gaius-like manner.

_Oh, how he missed the physician._

"You know you can't lie to me father" the Prince said, sighing. And Arthur cursed in his head because _of course_ his son had gotten Gwen's acuteness "So tell me, how are you?"

"Merlin talked to you, didn't he?"

Amhar pursed his lips "He talked to Galahad."

"Same." said the King. His eyes softened a bit before he said quietly "Look Amhar, I think this is it…"

He studied his son's face but despite his jaw clenching the prince didn't took his eyes away.

"I'm certain it is my time" Arthur continued "and I want you to know that no father has ever been prouder of his son. You will be a great King Amhar…greater than I ever was"

"Father don't say that" Amhar whispered, tears building behind his dark eyes "You are the one and only High King of Albion…no one can ever replace you."

Arthur was aware of Merlin's eyes on him but he smiled softly as he wiped away the tears running through Amhar's cheeks with his hands "You can, and you_ will_. Sooner than later I hope."

Amhar shook his head "Father…"

It looked like Galahad was about to say something but the door opened, letting in a beautiful, gray haired lady in a blood red dress. Guinevere smiled at her son and then proceeded to take her place besides Arthur's bed.

"How are you Arthur?"

The King rolled his eyes "I feel like I won that tournament in disguise." he smiled at his wife. "Do you remember Guinevere?"

Guinevere blushed at a faraway memory but she refused to let Arthur's charm get to her. "You know you can't lie to me Arthur." she scolded gently, earning a smug smile from Amhar behind her "Now tell me how you are."

"He feels like if he's going to throw up and the fever is still high" Merlin piped in absentmindedly as he continued taking with Galahad. Arthur glared at the back of Merlin's head and he just knew that his friend was smirking.

"Thank you Merlin."

Merlin turned around and winked at Gwen with those bright blue eyes that hadn't lost any of their radiance "You're very welcome my Queen."

Arthur rolled his eyes at both his wife and best friend, glancing at Amhar, who was biting his lip as he looked at the floor. Arthur sighed because he understood…he had been barely 25 years old when his own father had passed away…

"Hey Arthur, does this mean Amhar gets Excalibur?" Galahad asked suddenly, earning glares from the Prince and his mother. But as Arthur snickered quietly it was Merlin's reaction which surprised him the most.

"No!" the warlock snapped, crossing his lanky arms across his chest and throwing the knight a deadly glare, which had Galahad and the Prince backing away "No one gets Excalibur, Galahad! Gods, I can't even believe you asked something like that…"

"I wouldn't be able to wield it!" Amhar said softly, opening his eyes wide. "Excalibur is made for the Once and Future King _only_."

"You talk as if Arthur is leaving us Galahad!" Gwen scolded gently, frowning at the knight that was like a second son to her.

Galahad bit his lip as he ran a hand through his short mahogany hair "Sorry my Lady…I didn't mean it like that…I just thought…"

"I am not getting out of this bed anytime soon, Guinevere." Arthur interjected softly, making all the heads in the room snap in his direction, except for Merlin's, who's gaze never left him "I don't even think I'll get out of here at all…"

Gwen reached for her husband's cold hand, gripping it tightly on her own and smoothing the wrinkles with her lean fingers. Her lips quivered as if she was about to cry "Arthur don't say that…You are stronger than this, you are a warrior..."

"And he is also human, mother" Amhar said softly, enveloping his mother in an embrace "Maybe…maybe it is time for father"

Guinevere let tears fall, but she didn't deny it any longer. She had seen the signs too, the deterioration in Arthur's face, the silver sprouting in that golden beard, the small wrinkles around his eyes…Even yet, it all made him look even more handsome, more like the Once and Future King if it was possible. There was an aura of wisdom around his deep sky-blue eyes that told the story of a million trials and a million triumphs, as well as a million heartbreaks and treasons.

But there was still hope lingering inside her heart that maybe Arthur was not to leave her yet…_not yet…_

And so her gaze searched Merlin's but the only thing there was in those eyes was resolution and…happiness?

"Merlin?"

"Gwen." he answered softly.

And she knew there was no more to be done.

* * *

><p>The people knew. That much was certain.<p>

They knew their Golden King was dying. Arthur Pendragon, the heart of Camelot was _dying._

It was as if the city was taking gasping, agonizing breaths as the weeks passed. Children lay awake at night, whispering softly the adventures of their glorious King to each other, as if to remember him once he was gone. A few bards began composing soft elegies with their lutes, making mention of their King and his lionhearted nature, his golden locks, his easy smile, his brilliant, gentle and compassionate blue eyes…

* * *

><p>Arthur's entire body ached, as if his muscles had finally given up on the strain the King had placed on them. All those years of rigorous training, all those times he had neglected his wounds, all that brute force he'd used to survive…<p>

His arms were tired; they could only take so much. Catching his father as he fell into his arms…blood already staining his fingers…

Carrying Morgana, his heart on his throat, after she had fallen down those stairs, muttering reassuringly _"Is going to be alright, Morgana…"_

Taking Gaius's pulse even when he knew there was none, even when he knew he was giving Merlin's tearful eyes a false hope…

Supporting Guinevere as she screamed in agony, an arrow on her shoulder…barking out orders to all of his knights and then Merlin approaching, arms raised to heal…

Reaching for Amhar, watching in horror as his son took his place on a bloody battlefield…his boy's _first _battle…

Helping Gwaine reach safety after one of his drunken escapades…

Spinning Amhar around, laughing….

Gripping the hilt of his sword and dipping it into Morgana's chest without a shade of remorse…

Clutching Merlin, his _idiot's _body against his chest, screaming despairingly on that bloody battlefield…

God, he was _tired_.

His vision was blurred on his sides, rimmed with black fog. Each one of his breaths became more labored…

He glanced longingly at his window, wishing he could stand and utter a final goodbye to his people. Those people he'd loved so very much, the people he'd given everything. The people of Camelot. The people of Albion.

A slow tear descended down his cheek. He had reached his end and he knew it…but it was hard to say what all humanity has to learn, a word that transcribed long years of laughter and confined them to memory…

_goodbye…_

Feeling feather like hands, tanned as the brown earth, brush against his mushy hair. King Arthur of Camelot fell into a restless sleep.

He didn't see Gwen cry herself to oblivion besides the fire, sobbing against Amhar's chest.

* * *

><p>Merlin visited Gaius's grave that night. Glancing down at the pearly white stone below the oak tree, he smiled softly, tracing the soft line of his gray beard.<p>

His voice was carried by the wind.

"Now, Gaius…I'll be able to finally stay."

* * *

><p>The people of Camelot held candles out in the soft winds of the night, and from a window Amhar, Galahad, Guinevere and the Knights of the Round Table watched.<p>

* * *

><p>In his royal chambers, a weak Arthur searched for the familiar figure of his best friend, and all he could make out was a dark shadow by the side of his bed. When had everything become so <em>cold<em>?

"Merlin?"

The soft hum and the slight pressure on his hand were reassuring, as if the warmth of the sun had reached him through the chill of the night. "Yes Arthur?"

"Have you learned how to walk…on your knees…yet?"

He could feel Merlin smiling from ear to ear "Not yet."

Closing his eyes, the High King let out a dry laugh, returning the gentle squeeze in his hand. "Shame…I would've…liked to teach you…"

He could feel Merlin smile brightly, like a sun illuminating the night.

"Sure you would."

.

Merlin never slept. He stayed awake and alert, watching his King's face and the way Arthur's breath flattered every few hours. The King's face looked ashen through that night, and sometimes Merlin feared that his friend wouldn't wake up again.

"Merlin?"

" Hm?" softer this time…almost as if Merlin was barely there.

His clouded sky blue eyes searched for Merlin in the darkness, finally contenting with the way a soft reassuring pressure continued to press against his palm

"I can't sleep" the King of Albion said, closing his eyes and resigning himself to the foggy darkness.

There was silence between them but Arthur could feel Merlin's lean hand reach for his forehead, resting there in a soft sign of empathy. He felt a smile crawl upon his chapped lips as he reflected on the way Merlin had always remained by his side, never once swaying, never once failing. His warlock, his rock, his fortress…

"I can tell you a story" Merlin said softly, leaning closer so Arthur's tired brain could process the words. Arthur smiled dimly and squeezed Merlin's hand with as much strength as he could muster.

Merlin's soft voice filled the silence with colors that night. He filled darkness with magic born light.

"There was once a warlock and a King…."

"An idiot warlock?" Arthur whispered, opening his eyes to glance at Merlin's face.

Merlin smiled and wiped away the tears running down his cheeks "Yes, an idiot warlock" he conceded. "and a Prat King who annoyed the warlock to no end…The Prat King was arrogant and spoiled but yet the idiot warlock was brilliant. Truly, out of the two, he was the brightest side of the coin..."

Arthur would never admit that Merlin's voice lulled him to sleep. But it did, and as dancing candles floated around the room the only warmth his dying body could feel was that coming from Merlin's palm…

* * *

><p>His feet shuffled silently across a daffodil's field, marveled at the beauty of it all. He didn't even questioned how he'd end there, but just relinquished to a warm feeling already growing on his chest.<p>

That's when he saw them.

Ygraine and Uther were standing a few feet from him, gazing at each other lovingly as they lay in each other's embrace. His mother smiled at him with the warmth of a sun kissed face and her voice echoed through the field, sending daffodils through the wind

"_At last…"_ she said sweetly_ "my son…."_

His father smiled at him, innocent and full of life. The words that he spoke reached deep into Arthur's heart for, without knowing, he'd been craving them all his life.

"_We are so proud of you Arthur…You are more than I could ever hope to be…"_

When he awoke, he was in tears. Rolling down his cheeks, dripping through the clean sheets the silent pearls poured out of him, as a dam that had broken. Light blue irises wandered around but they couldn't focus. Dulled and hazy, his eyes were dying too.

The tears did not stop, for Arthur Pendragon was scared. Scared of the new darkness that was opening before him, as a void waiting to engulf him. All of his skills as a warrior could not help him against this new foe who came so silently to take him away...

But yet...why fear it? He'd seen Merlin talk of death as his time to rest, jokingly calling it a much needed holiday...and yes, if he had learned something with time...was that Merlin was always right.

That's when he became aware that there was something heavy resting on his chest. Squinting against the blackness he reached one tentative trembling hand towards it, feeling strands of hair being combed by his fingers. He had to fight back the flood of tears when he understood his best friend had fallen asleep on his chest, listening to the reassuring beating of his tired heart.

"You are the biggest idiot Merlin" he whispered to the ceiling, placing his palm against the top of his warlock's head, letting the warmth there spread through his cold fingers. He sighed contentedly and snuggled against the fluffy pillows, his heart beat dying down and tears drying.

He couldn't help but smile because there was no fear in his heart anymore.

Merlin was there.

* * *

><p>"Amhar are you alright?"<p>

The prince looked around and spotted Lancelot walking towards him, relying heavily on his cane as he reached the table. He got up promptly and gently helped the aging knight sit down.

"You look troubled." Lancelot said softly when Amhar leveled his dark eyes with his. The prince bit his lip and let out a shuddering sigh, dark eyes swimming with too many emotions. He was shaken but calm, even though the thought of his father leaving sent daggers to his heart.

"I am" he answered, looking down at his hands.

Lancelot bit his lip as he watched his prince, wanting nothing more but to be of any comfort. But he knew Amhar was past that, he was a man now, young still but nevertheless a caring, wise and talented young man who would be a great King.

"I just don't want him to go" Amhar whispered, finally breaking down. He placed his head between his hands, sobbing softly. "I know I'm ready but-but he is my _father!"_

Lancelot felt his heart break for the boy. He himself had lost his family very young…the noblest of all knights sighed and placed his hands on the young man's shoulders.

"Listen Amhar" he said slowly, looking into his prince's brilliant brown eyes, so similar to Gwen's. "You will not be alone. The Round Table will still be here, Galahad will be here, your mother, Merlin…"

"That's not true…" Amhar whispered, tears dripping from his nose to the table with a soft sound "It is _not_ true…Merlin will leave me too…"

Lancelot felt his old heart skip a bit as he processed Amhar's words. The prince was still looking down, shoulders hunched, sobs coming from his throat.

"Whatever makes you think that?" Lancelot asked, bewildered. "Merlin is alright, isn't he?"

He couldn't help but let his mind wander to the battle where Morgana and-and _Merlin _had perished. He shuddered, remembering the void his friend's passing had left on his chest, and Arthur's broken heart….

The prince of Camelot let out a dry laugh "That doesn't mean he won't follow. I've seen it in his eyes. I grew up with him for God's sake! He's willing to follow…"

_"You are willing to follow, aren't you, Arthur Pendragon?"_

The voice of the Lady of the Lake echoed inside Lancelot's white streaked head, sending a jolt through his body. Those softly spoken words…could they be applied to Merlin too?

"Don't you see?" Amhar said quietly, staring out to the blood red sky "Because I do, Lancelot. I've known them all my life…and Merlin is happy…he's happy because he'll be able to rest too."

* * *

><p>The Round Table flickered with candlelight as the knights gathered around it. As always, there was Gwaine's red cape sprawled across his chair, in which the carved words '<em>Gwaine the Incredible'<em> seemed to laugh from the wood.

"Are you sure about this Galahad?" Sir Leon asked, voice shaking. The oldest knight was trying not to think about his King's undeniable departure, but there was no trace of doubt in Galahad's voice.

"I'm sure. Merlin told me it won't be long now. He says he can feel it. He wants us all to be ready."

"And Amhar?"

Galahad placed a hand on his mahogany hair. "I'll talk to him" he said quietly. "I'll be with him when the moment comes."

Sir Leon nodded and sighed, trying to stop the tears prickling in his eyes. Elyan, from his right, placed a tanned hand on his friend's shoulder.

"We all knew this day would come someday, Leon." he said soothingly "At least we didn't lose him in a battle…"

"At least we can say goodbye." Percival added gently.

Sir Leon looked at the weary faces of his brotherhood and then at Gwaine's empty sit. It had been four years since Lancelot had returned after a mission with a bloodied Gwaine on toll, buying his friend just enough time to see Merlin and Arthur before he faded into the hands of an unbroken sleep.

It was hard for all of them to see the liveliest of all the knights fade away with a smile on his lips, one hand clutching Merlin's and the other one clutching Gwen's as he joked about lending down his life for a noble…

Leon sighed, walking towards Arthur's empty seat and placing a hand on the worn red velvet" There will never be no one greater than him." he said softly, looking out to the sun "No one."

Silently, all the Knights of the Round Table agreed.

* * *

><p>After opening his eyes he couldn't see.<p>

Oh, Gods…he couldn't see. Darkness surrounded him, as empty as a starless night, as thick as embroidered patterns that covered his sheets.

Where? What…? What to _do?_ He began panting desperately as he struggled, blinking to clear away the dark fog on his pupils…but there was no light…_no light…._

His hand reached another, lean fingers resting against his rib cage. He squeezed it with all that was worth, feeling the weight on his chest lessen immediately and then a hand, with a mother's touch, place itself on his cheek.

"Merlin?" he called out, voice strained and husky. He felt tears running down his cheeks from his sightless eyes, burning the wrinkled skin.

"What's wrong Arthur?"

Merlin's voice was enough to make his heart slow down several beats. His friend's hand traveled to his forehead, resting there.

"I-I can't see Merlin."

He could sense the defeat and pain on his voice, the fear. And when Merlin's thumbs smoothed against the corners of his eyes, he could sense the sheer desperation and sadness on the way those fingers trembled while they looked at sightless, dull eyes the color of the clear sky.

"Arthur…"Merlin whispered "Arthur…oh God…"

He began muttering to himself in the words of the Old Religion, placing his smooth fingers on the trembling eyelids of the greatest King and friend there ever was. Arthur let him, even though he knew there was nothing he could do.

"Merlin, I'm blind." he said, looking for his friend's hands and eventually finding them, clutching them with his own "There's nothing you can do."

"No, Arthur…there_ must_ be…"

Arthur let his darkened eyes wonder around and closed them. Crystalline tears came forth and traveled down his hollow cheeks.

"I was blind for so long Merlin…blinded by my father's hatred and my own foolishness…blinded by my pride and selfishness I've hurt so many people so much…I've hurt _you_ so much…"

He felt Merlin's hand smooth back the gray lock on his forehead as his voice softly tried to deny what he knew to be the truth. "Arthur you don't deserve this..."

"But I do. And it is only just that I must suffer from physical blindness too, is it not?" The High King's voice lowered to a murmur and he smiled faintly. "Besides…it will only be for a little while, right Merlin?"

Merlin's hand found his heart and he listened to its weak beats with his bright cerulean eyes also closed.

"Yes Arthur" Merlin said. "we're are almost there, my friend."

* * *

><p>Geoffrey, now old enough to be over a hundred years, spent the following days sitting by Arthur's bedside with rolls of parchment on his arms and a ready quill on his hand.<p>

He asked the High King about his life, his birth, and his adventures. He asked about his knights and his Queen, his son…

Merlin was there through it all, never leaving his King's side. No longer eating or sleeping in a proper bed, the warlock looked as if he was consuming himself with his best friend. But as Arthur seemed to fade away Merlin looked bright as the sun that entered the windows and that the King could not see.

He was_ radiant_, Geoffrey noted.

Their decadence didn't stop the two friends from bickering like children. Geoffrey dreaded asking questions because the two of them always contradicted each other and before it turned into a tumultuous fight he had to change the facts and start again with another parchment…

There were times, late and night, when he entered looking for a forgotten piece of writing, only to find his heart warmed up at the sight of the two most powerful man in the world, the Once and Future King and The Emrys, sleeping soundly. Merlin sprawled on the same worn chair, head resting on his King's chest, right above his heart, and Arthur's hand placed on his warlock's back, as if in reassurance of his presence.

He didn't write those moments down. He had them in his heart, to warm those nights in which there would be no more Once and Future King…and therefore no more Emrys.

* * *

><p>The end was peaceful.<p>

It was beautiful.

In the end, it was a still, beautiful blue sky which received King Arthur's last breath.

In the end, like a shivering autumn leave, he floated away in the middle of a pleasant memory.

The morning was precious and delicate, like if the earth itself wanted to honor its greatest King. Arthur had finally reached the end of his long journey, after uniting Albion and ruling it wisely and justly for many years.

Merlin had known it from the moment he woke up and sought Arthur's hand with his, placed a cold rag on the feverish forehead of his brother in everything but blood and asked the young manservant to please call for the Queen, Prince and knights.

But as Arthur mumbled deliriously he felt tears prickle his eyes, tears of impotence and sadness for he could do nothing for his King and nothing for his own breaking heart. Even if he was going to follow Arthur, whatever the cost, it still hurt to know his prat would be gone from his side for the littlest of times.

Amhar came barreling in, obviously alerted by Galahad, who was pale and silent, ever present at his prince's side. Then entered Gwen, Lancelot, Leon, Elyan, Percival, Geoffrey…

The Queen threw herself over Merlin with a sob, wanting desperately another answer than the truth, a white lie to help ease her pain. But Merlin's own tearful eyes told her that there was nothing to be done and the hour of goodbye was nigh.

Amhar, ever the calm prince, sat at the edge of King Arthur's bed, took his father's hand in his and directed his warm gaze to those extinct irises of the man he had always sought to impress and make proud.

"Father…." His voice carried the sheer desperation of a child being abandoned and Arthur took his son's hand in his, placing another one in the golden curls he could not see.

"Amhar…" he answered weakly, fruitlessly trying to blink away the darkness. No luck. He could not see his son's handsome, pure face one last time but he smiled as he felt the prince squeeze, ever so gently, his trembling hand "I'm so proud of you, my son…everyday, from the day you were born, I've been thankful and humbled because I did not deserve something like you…"

He could feel Amhar's grip tightening and then a soft sob left his lips "I'll miss you father…"

Arthur smiled and let his weary hand travel down to his son's strong chin "It won't be long Amhar. We'll see each other again in no time, I promise you that"

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. He felt Amhar's hand leave his and then his son's lips pressed against his warm forehead, as a final goodbye and the seal of an unspoken promise.

_It won't be long._

.

Guinevere did not stop crying, not even when Arthur assured her that there was nothing to worry about, that she had to be strong for Amhar and that Merlin would be there to take care of her.

She just threw herself into his arms and sobbed continuously; numbering all the things she loved about him, from his compassion and loyalty to his courage and strength, his steadfastness, his clear eyes, the way he pronounced her name….

She demanded him to live for her, to try and rise up for her but Arthur just shook his head with a tired, knowing smile on his pale lips.

He tried to do it too, for Guinevere, he tried to blink the darkness away…but he couldn't see the face of the woman she loved for one last time, not the way her lovely brown eyes were rimmed in red and her dress was soaked from all the tears she had shed.

"I love you Guinevere." Arthur said.

And they held each other for what felt like ages.

.

His knights did not cry, at least not out loud.

Although Arthur could not see it, they were all shedding silent, clear tears that got lost in their wrinkling faces. Galahad was the only one who broke the rule (again, when _wasn't_ Galahad breaking the rules?) and placed a quivering hand on Arthur's shoulder, saying softly:

"You were like a father to me."

And Arthur placed a hand on the young man's cheek and said simply "And you were like a son to me."

Leon, the most loyal of all knights, was the second one to break formation and sit by Arthur's bed. His lips quivered, although Arthur did not see it as he spoke the truth that had kept him going all those years, trough immortal armies and bandits, through heartache and grief...

"You are and always will be the greatest King that will ever live Arthur. My loyalty and friendship are to you and you only." he took Arthur's hand and kissed it, dimly aware that now soft sobs tore his throat.

"What's that I hear?" Arthur teased weakly. "Are you crying, Sir Leon? What happened to years of training? I thought no man was worth your tears."

Leon's answered was soft but measured, filled with more tears that fell and splashed Arthur's warm skin.

"No, sire" he said "No man but you."

Lancelot also knelt by his side, taking Arthur's other hand and smoothing the wrinkles with his tired fingers. The cane lay forgotten as he said gravely his King's name.

"Arthur."

Arthur turned his head in his general direction, dull eyes fixing on his face.

"Lancelot, old friend." he breathed, smiling dimly "I suppose you are crying too?"

Lancelot smiled too, and he said strongly "Not at all, sire. But I want to wish you…the best in your journey."

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, relinquishing into the darkness that he could not dissipate, for as much as he wanted to, nothing was taking the dark fog from his eyes.

He breathed out as he held to Lancelot's hand with his own "Thank you, Lancelot. You continue to be…the noblest of them all…I am honored to call you a knight of Camelot"

"The honor was all mine, sire." Lancelot said, emotion tingling his voice "It was all mine."

Percival and Elyan each knelt at each side of the bed, bowing respectfully.

Arthur closed his sightless eyes and sighed. He was tired…

But he placed each of his hands on Elyan's and Percival's heads, sensing them quiver with emotion beneath them "I'm honored to call you all my brothers" Arthur said weakly, feeling all strength leaving him. He felt Leon's hand guide his head gently back to the fluffy pillows and a soft smile grazed his lips when he heard all of his knights go down on their knees and chant gently "Long live the King!"

.

Geoffrey approached the Once and Future King with his arms full of parchments, fruit of the memories he had managed to collect on the last few days. He sighed heavily when he saw that Arthur's eyes were closed, mouth slightly parted as he took in rasping little breaths. He cleared his throat but his King was still oblivious.

Merlin, propped against a dark corner of the room, approached to them swiftly, nodding solemnly at Geoffrey and positioning himself by his rightful place, at Arthur's side. He carefully placed a hand on his best friend's arm as if not to startle him and said softly "Let's have you lazy daisy"

The response was immediate. Arthur's dull eyes snapped open, pained and unfocused, and his hand patted around until he found Merlin's, clutching it as a lifeline. The warlock simply regarded him with sad eyes.

"Is me you cabbage head" he said gently, pressing Arthur's hand with his own "Geoffrey is here to…"

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, eyes wondering around the room pointlessly. Geoffrey felt a pang in his heart at seeing his King so weak and vulnerable…

But _Merlin_ was there. He placed a hand on Arthur's forehead guiding his eyes gently to his own cerulean ones.

"Yeah Arthur?"

The King took in deep, careful breaths. His chest rose and fell like a dying ember, and Geoffrey couldn't help but think he was. The dying ember of the Golden King.

"Will you stay by my side?" he asked softly, sightless sky-blue eyes inadvertently fixed in Merlin's dark blue irises.

Merlin's eyes softened and for a moment Geoffrey saw understanding pass between them like if their hearts could hear each other and understand the meaning of their beating.

Merlin smiled even though Arthur couldn't see it "Always Arthur."

Merlin glanced at him with those brilliant blue eyes of his and Geoffrey cleared his throat again, pursing his lips before going to the heart of the matter.

"My Lord…" he asked hesitantly "All this records…I have the life of the Greatest King of Albion in my hands now. What do you want me to do with it?"

Arthur's answer was not what he expected. The King titled his head and furrowed his brow as he closed his eyes. "Burn them Geoffrey"

He couldn't repress his surprise _"What?"_

"I said burn them" Arthur repeated, his voice getting weaker by the second "I do not want my life to be defined by some ballad or…or whatever it is. I am not a romantic hero Geoffrey I am a King…."

Geoffrey thought Arthur was being unreasonable but it could be expected, after all the man was fading. Merlin directed him a soft look that said_ 'we'll talk later'_ so he respectfully bowed and went out of the room, turning on his heels once he found his voice.

"My King…I just want to say I am honored to have served you. You are and will always be…the greatest King of all."

He heard Arthur's sigh and a weak smile crossed the King's lips. Amhar moved his eyes towards him and the Queen let out a sob. The knights just stood stoically against the door. Surveying the scene, Geoffrey was surprised that no one was touching Arthur except for his Court Sorcerer…

"Thank you Geoffrey" Arthur replied, voice cracking "It's been an honor too."

.

There was silence as soon as Geoffrey closed the door behind him. Amhar and Galahad looked at each other, Gwen exchanged glances with the Knights and Merlin didn't take his gaze away from Arthur, eyes fixed to his King's closed eyelids.

No one breathed.

They all could feel it, the way it quietly passed brushing strands of hair away from their faces and letting coldness sweep in, the way it whispered in their minds a barely spoken denial and then rose through their throats with salty tears.

It was death and it was seeking King Arthur.

Arthur opened his eyes and spoke, a voice full of authority yet weak and almost breathless "I need to speak with Merlin…." He said softly "I need to speak with Merlin alone…"

Everyone exchanged worried glances, but a look from Merlin quieted them. Silently, the knights, the Queen and the prince went out of the royal chambers, closing the door softly behind them.

Merlin turned to his King and the tender glow of those eyes reflected on Arthur's ashen face, going through the worn features slowly. He placed a hand on the base of Arthur's throat, feeling the weak pulse, the bare sound of life beating beneath his fingers.

"Merlin…"Arthur said softly, blinking in his direction "Merlin…"

Dull blue eyes looked at him and Merlin forced himself to smile. Even if Arthur couldn't see it, still he knew Arthur could feel his distress and barely concealed sadness. Even if Arthur couldn't see the tears rolling down his cheeks he knew Arthur could feel the sobs his heart was emitting.

Arthur needlessly searched his face with his sightless eyes, placing a hand upon Merlin's and grinning that amused, brilliant smile of his that hadn't lost any of his charm.

"You're not crying over me are you Merlin?"

Merlin huffed and sniffed, shaking his head "No…I'm just…"

But Arthur saw right through him, a rare occurrence, even more now than his sight had left him. Lifting his hand he placed it on his Court Sorcerer's shoulder, pushing gently in what he attempted as a playful gesture.

"Look at this. The Emrys crying for a simple King. Who would've thought that?"

It worked. He sensed Merlin's uneasiness vanished somewhat and the lighthearted response was what he was hoping for "You are right. And even more so because the King is a prat"

Arthur smiled, wishing more than ever that he could see Merlin. See him and _only him_, his purity and devotion, his loyalty and love and everything that made him Merlin_…_ and also the other side of his heart which was tender since the moment Merlin had been so cruelly ripped away from him…

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the beating heart in Merlin's palm, drawing strength from the other side of the coin, his best friend… for he needed all the strength he could get to tell Merlin the only thing he dreaded more than anything.

_Goodbye._

"Merlin?"

"Yes, old friend?"

The black fog on his eyes dissipated and focused on the pure, luminous blue of Merlin's eyes, those eyes that always pulled him through, always brought happiness when they were wide open. That blue that was his sanctuary and his peace, his calmness in the storms, light in times of darkness.

The blue eyes of his best friend, the most incredible, loyal and idiotic man there ever was. Those blue eyes of his guardian angel, his savior.

They were the last thing King Arthur ever saw.

Arthur Pendragon cracked a weak grin, reaching with his trembling fingers the luminous blue light that shone down on him. One solitary tear traveled down Merlin's aging face, lost in the softness of his pepper salt beard.

He stifled a laugh as his last breath left him, his heartbeat as weak as the fluttering of a dying bird, sighing out with the last of his strength…

_"I see you._"

.

.

.

By the time Amhar and Guinevere finally pushed the doors of Arthur's chambers open, the sun was filtering through the transparent red curtains, barely drawn.

"Oh God…"

Amhar's murmur was answered with a cry from his mother, and he extended his arms to restrain her from the heartbreaking scene that was presenting itself before their eyes. Merlin, crying silently over his King's chest while the ghost of a last smile left Arthur's noble blue eyes.

The waiting was the worst.

One by one, the Knights of the Round Table entered the room, taking in with wide eyes the truth all of them sought to forget. That it was over and their Golden King was _dead._

Lancelot was the first one to break formality and the noble knight limped towards the bed, bending over Merlin and enveloping him with his strong arms, soothing him gently. But the warlock just shook his head and clung to Arthur's still warm hand, saying something about preparing him…

"Yes, yes, Merlin…but please come with me…we'll prepare him for the pyre later, I promise…."

Merlin's tear stricken face shot upwards, and eyed Lancelot which such horror in his eyes that the knight thought he'd somehow said a blasphemy.

"_Burning _Arthur?" Merlin said, sounding as outraged as ever, blinking away his tears and eyeing Lancelot between the redness of his eyes "Over my dead body."

"Not that we'll have to wait long anyway" Galahad whispered distractedly and immediately gasped as if he couldn't believe what he had just said. Amhar sent him a scandalized look while he took his knight out of the room.

"You're right Galahad" Merlin said calmly, looking over to the knight with a gentle, yet forced, smile "It won't be long…"

The Emrys looked out of the window for a few moments and the walked over to his King, kneeling as he placed a hand upon his cold, still shoulder.

"It won't be long, old friend" he said silently "you had my promise. And I intend to keep it."

.

.

.

.

Millions of citizens from Albion came from all over the kingdoms to pay respects to their Great King. Arthur, regal and majestic, was dressed out in black and red robes, Excalibur clutched between his hands. The soft scent of magnolia and pine filled the room, in which the sun shone down just above Arthur's pale face, forming a halo above his golden hair, making him seem even more unearthly.

Their Queen was standing on the side, her face buried between her hands as she cried her heart out. Their prince, pale but strong, stood regally by his father's corpse, taking the condolences from all citizens with soft words and open arms. By his side, Sir Galahad never let his gaze go astray from his prince, although his eyes were red rimmed and he sniffed once in a while, blowing his nose on a patterned handkerchief.

The rest of the knights of the Round Table were standing on a semicircle around Arthur's body and many of the people saw with increasing shock that there were tears running down those cheeks. Galahad was always an exception to the rule, of course, but to see this men who were brought up to feel no pain...shedding tears shamelessly...

One or two children stood on the tips of their toes as they looked at Arthur's still form, titling their heads.

"He will wake up, won't he mum?" one of them asked, ripping a sob from Amhar's throat.

The chagrined woman, cheeks bright from the tears, muttered a quick "I'm _so_ sorry my liege." before leading her child out of the throne room.

But no one had seen the Court Sorcerer, Arthur's right hand. Merlin. Bare whispers that reached the people's ears said that he had dissipated, with the first morning light, into a shower of clear gold, the purpose of his life gone. Other rumors, mostly spread by teary woman, were that he had escaped Camelot and the memory of his dear King and friend.

None of them were true, of course. Amhar's collected facade was kept only because he knew that Merlin was near, if not actually there, somewhere around the castle, watching and waiting...

For _what_, the prince didn't exactly know. But he knew that Merlin's sudden need for them to be ready at sundown for 'his last gift to Arthur' had something to do with it. His godfather had refused to let his father out of his sight until the doors of the throne room were opened to the public, and all night he'd stayed up with Amhar, clutching Arthur's hands between his, fingers barely touching Excalibur's hilt. Amhar -and he was not ashamed to admit it- had spent half of the time mourning his father and another considerable amount watching Merlin. He'd never felt the bond between his father and Merlin as he did that night. In the way Merlin did not cry but repeated past phrases as he smiled down to Arthur, telling Amhar tales he'd heard in his childhood about his father's courage and selflessness and about his stubbornness and pride...

He found himself laughing and crying with Merlin during the course of that moonless night, and the memory would light the days in which being the new King of Albion felt like an unbearable burden.

.

Merlin appeared through the door just as the sun started hiding in the horizon. His feet were heavy as he walked through the marble floor and looked at his friends, Queen and Prince with a solemn smile on his tired face.

"It's time." he said quietly as he approached Arthur's still body and looked down as his smile widened and softened "Time to take Arthur to the place he deserves."

The knights and his sovereigns stared at him with confusion but the warlock did not averted his gaze from the corpse of his friend. Calling softly for some guards to come forward, Merlin deposited the King's body very gently on a litter, sweeping back the fringe of grayish blond hair as he took Excalibur from Arthur's hands with as much gentleness as he could muster and presented it to Sir Bedivere.

"You'll give it to Freya when we get there." The Emrys commanded softly and the knight, even if he did not know who his friend was talking about, stood tall and bowed his head in agreement.

As a few guards approached the litter though, Leon's hand stopped them short. The knight looked down at his King with a sorrowful look on his worn face. "No," he said "We'll carry him. It will be an honor to take our King to his rightful place."

Merlin nodded as Percival, Leon, Elyan and Lancelot each grabbed one of the four sides of the litter and raised King Arthur above their shoulders. Merlin's eyes flickered when the light of the newborn sun touched Arthur's features, making a shadow of life move through the still face...

If he closed his eyes and pretended to be innocent as the young prince standing by his side he could almost hear Arthur's laugh as he called him an 'idiot', almost see his sun-like smile, that genuine smile that _he_ so many times provoked and was relieved to see in his friend's face, that look in his eyes, the barely concealed affection that Arthur had learned to hide since he was a child...

Two tears fell from his eyes as the memories washed over him, leaving that hole in his heart emptier and the part of his soul that was missing aching even more...

But it all would be over...it all would be over soon. And the thought of hearing Arthur's carefree laugh and seeing his friend's eyes light up with life and joy was what kept him going...

He, at least, had that motivation.

And as the warlock walked silently in front of the solemn cortège ,ignoring purposely Galahad's questions of the destiny of their last journey, he finally understood how much pure strength Arthur had. His body felt ready to fall in the middle of his hollowness. But Arthur had kept going, wounded and empty, but he _went on_, even without any reassurance...even when his warlock was _gone_ for good.

And so Merlin would keep going for Arthur.

He tried not to think, willed himself to stop seeing those sightless eyes beneath his eyelids every time his irises closed. He could feel Gwen and Amhar crying silently behind him, the piercing and perceptive gaze of Lancelot in his back and hear Galahad's loud sniffs. But he did nothing to console them with the truth that bounced like the only hope in his heart, that Arthur was not completely gone since he still needed his other half, even in death.

Because even if Arthur was not meant to _follow_, Merlin was _made_ for Arthur. Nothing could snatch him away from his King, not even the cold and unforgiving hands of death. He'd He'd come back to his King once and the result of his little deviation had cost Arthur dearly if he was to believe Lancelot's account of Arthur's tortured gaze and horror, of his gigantic _sorrow_...

And he'd seen it, healed it with his whispered promises of a future rid from separations, of a future where he'd follow Arthur through snow and sand, through water and thorns so his precious King would never feel abandoned, so completely _alone_ again...

His promise still stood.

"We're here."

The words came not from his throat, still dry and only capable of murmuring his King's name with the last of his breath, but from Lancelot's. He'd recognized the lake of Avalon and immediately understood what his dear friend wanted to do.

Merlin nodded in confirmation and the knights deposited their golden King on the grass, bowing as they took a step back and Merlin, unaware of everything but Arthur, fell to his knees beside his best friend with a choked sob.

He wondered what Arthur would say if he saw him now, finally kneeling over the soft grass of Avalon as his trembling hands went over the strong face, the muscular shoulders and finally rested over the alabaster brow while he muttered words as ancient as the prophecy of their unbreakable bond.

And then... the _miracle._ The glorious, heart-healing moment he _needed_ so, he breathed for and he waited for with his heart clenched on a tight fist.

Arthur's eyelids fluttered open to reveal two wide, alert blue eyes that stared into his as if he had never left. The jest and affection shone deeply from those well-known orbs and Merlin found tears sliding down his face before he could stop them as he threw himself into wide open, strong arms that were already waiting for him.

"I thought you told me you weren't crying?" came Arthur's amused whisper as Merlin pulled back and dried his tears.

"Nah," he answered softly and the relief at hearing his friend chuckle quietly made his head dizzy with happiness."I don't cry for worthless prats...but friends on the other hand..."

Arthur's gaze wondered around and fixated itself on his family, too shocked and surprised to move. Gwen was raising a hand, instinctively understanding that the King and his Court Sorcerer were now in another world, that a line drawn between them and the rest of the earth. She smiled weakly as Arthur's eyes bore into hers, saying one last _' I love you.'_

Amhar saw his father's whole body glow with a light as radiant as the sun, shinning from his eyes and expanding through his clothes until he looked as if he was dressed in the purest of whites with hints of gold...

His whole face illuminated by radiance, the High King Of Albion did not take his eyes away from the shore. His irises were shimmering with the reflection of the heavenly waters when he extended a hand towards the lake, clutching Merlin's hand tightly in his, for the warlock was still kneeling besides him.

"Take me to the lake Merlin..." he murmured as yearningly as if it was his kingdom waiting for him in the crystalline depths. " for I've been here too long."

And Merlin called a rustic barge with a flash of his powerful eyes and grabbed Arthur's hands as he helped his King lie down on the wood. The Once and Future King closed his eyes as he took one last glance towards those blue eyes that belonged to his soul brother...and a soft smile spread across his lips.

"This is your fate Arthur..." Merlin said softly, leaning down towards the barge with both hands crossed on his chest. Since it was the last time before the end, he showed Arthur, for once, how much he respected him as a King and a leader, as the Golden warrior of Camelot, as the ruler of Albion. He bowed and his forehead touched the cool grass for the barest of moments before his eyes, like irrevocable magnets, were piercing those of his best friend once more. "to be the greatest King Albion has ever known...until the end of time."

Arthur smiled and a hint of sadness blemished his radiant features. He raised his glowing hand and placed it on Merlin's shoulder, pressing down lightly as the word's that were always unspoken between them flowed through his lips. Because this was the last time before the end's new beginning and Merlin, his angel and his strength, deserved them.

"I'll see you on the other side, then..." he said softly. "Goodbye, Merlin. I loved you, my friend."

Merlin smiled radiantly over the dancing water and a slow tear descended down his cheek and reached the blessed water of Avalon's lake. After all their destiny was done, the Old Religion finally satisfied and his whole purpose for being on earth finally wavered away from the earthly plain.

Arthur closed his luminous eyes and expired as Merlin leaned down to whisper a last, choked goodbye on his King's ear.

He sent the boat into the awaiting waters, then. And Arthur floated away as his knights, wife and son watched and Merlin doubled over as a dying fire, falling to his knees on the shore.

.

Merlin said there was something he had to do first.

After gazing the last remnant of Arthur go away The Emrys had turned around and looked at them with those eyes that did not hid how tired he felt. Tired of fighting, of the sacrifice and pain that his heart demanded, of everything he ever did for Arthur. For a moment, to the eyes of those who watched behind the invisible wall of solemnity, Merlin looked oddly accomplished and..._old_. The lively spark of life in his eyes was all but gone, and his shoulders hunched over as he walked slowly towards them with the sole intention of returning what was never his to take.

.

He'd always known.

In his heart of hearts he'd always known that his power, bestowed over him only by his character, by Arthur's fate, was not his but the world's. The Emrys, the power that resided inside of him, had to be returned.

Emrys was immortal...

...but Merlin wasn't.

And that thought was the string of light he was holding on to, because his soul, carved between the hands of destiny, could only wander away from Arthur's for so long and was already strained to the point of breaking his heart. He could feel it throbbing beneath his fingers as his hand clutched the pale flesh of his chest, trying to subside his overtired heart, to make it resist just a while longer...

And the moment came when he, Merlin of Ealdor, The Emrys, knelt on the Crystal Cave and turned his eyes towards the sky and his palms rested over the cold rocks in which he himself had originated, in which his life force had taken form and lived before residing within him. But it was his _life force_ what he was relinquishing to the Old Religion while his soul...his _soul_ was only Arthur's.

And to him, he would return.

"Everything's done!" he confirmed, looking as the crystals around him flashed with all the images he'd already seen, all the memories he held dear of his and Arthur's years uniting Albion. "I am _done_."

And the light enveloped the cave as it took _The Emrys_ away and bestowed it upon the earth, flashing it down upon rivers and mountains for the Greatest King was gone to the land of Avalon and The Emrys was not needed anymore.

All around the cave, where a shaken prince, Queen and knights waited, flowers began to bloom.

.

Merlin emerged, worn and tired, from the cave, when sun rose again. His hands were shaking so hard that Lancelot and Percival immediately offered up to help him, grabbing both of the skinny arms and guiding each little step the warlock took. As he advanced, magic flared from inside his pores, leaving it's beloved vase, the boy from Ealdor with a heart of gold. *

Nature flared around him. Flowers, of the kind neither of the Camelotians had ever seen, bloomed with Merlin's each step and lingered behind the man's worn boots, as if saying one last goodbye to the keeper of their hope, their Emrys. And Merlin, his heart already ceasing its constant beating, searched in the eyes of his friends the confirmation of what he was seeing. His magic, his life force, was leaving him forever.

And he would be finally able to_ rest_.

Because The Once and Future King didn't need Emrys anymore but Arthur still needed Merlin. As the prophecies foretold of his magic being only for Arthur, he knew that, with time, his life was Arthur's too. And his King was waiting for him...waiting for him so that the coin could be complete once more.

"Take me to the lake." he murmured in a breathless whisper. "He's waiting for me."

And the noble knights of Camelot, a solemn look on their tired faces, guided the fading warlock to the clear lake of Avalon once more. And Merlin knelt in the shore, his eyes fixated on something neither of his friends could see was he murmured quietly.

"Freya."

That's when they saw her. A Lady emerging from the water, as naturally as if she belonged in there, extending her hands out towards Merlin as the tired, consumed warlock smiled up at her.

"Sir Bedivere..." the warlock whispered with a barely concealed impatience in his fading voice. "The sword..."

Sir Bedivere, as stunned as the rest of the people watching the scene unfold, advanced towards Merlin and knelt in the grass by his side, looking up at the dark eyes of the Lady of The Lake, who smiled sweetly as he presented the sword to her.

"Thank you, Sir Bedivere..." she said, and her voice sounded like the ethereal calmness of the waves. She took the sword in both of her hands and then she turned her beautiful head towards Merlin, saying sweetly "My love...it's time."

She detached a hand from the glimmering hilt of the sword and extended it towards him and the trembling fingers of the warlock reached out...

_"Merlin!"_

He turned around to find that it was Amhar, his voice choked in tears and his eyes already spilling them over his tanned cheeks.

"Merlin!" the prince exclaimed in the middle of the otherworldly silence "Don't you leave me too!"

As the Lady of the Lake bowed and submerged in the depths of Avalon with the sword between her delicate fingers, his godfather walked towards him, silence and sorrow present on his dark blue eyes as he reached out and placed both of his wrinkled hands on Amhar's strong shoulders, something he'd done since the prince was a little boy. And as the touch lingered Amhar thought back to all those cherished memories he had of his godfather...and his father...

"You will be a great King, Amhar..." Merlin said, smiling gently "I am no seer, but I can see it in you. Your compassion...your bravery...just remember that the sword sometimes is the best way and for that you have this young man here to help you." he titled his head, ever so gently, towards a sniffing Galahad. "And your mother. And remember that your father and I are always with you, here watching over you forevermore."

"But...you don't have to go..." Amhar whispered, clutching the warlock's hand in his shoulder convulsively with his own, as if his touch could keep his godfather's spirit tied to earth a while longer "_Please_ Merlin...don't go..."

"But I have too..." Merlin answered, smiling softly, as the light in his eyes faded gradually until it was nothing but a flicker. Truly, that light had been dissipated like dissolving smoke since King Arthur had taken his last breath. "You know I have too..."

Amhar looked down as tears fell, unbidden, from his eyes.

"I know..." he admitted.

And finally, _finally_, he let go.

.

He didn't have to wait long.

Just a moment or two.

.

As his breathless body sagged to the ground, Merlin let out two words that were the lock and key to a the Golden Era of Albion.

"It's _done._"

And the world was filled with the purest of lights.

And as the warlock closed his tired eyes King Arthur rose from the watery depths with a wide smile on his face, reaching out for his servant, his friend and his ally, his comrade, his fortress, his rock and his calmness, his light, his _brother,_ the missing piece of his soul. But as their eyes, those of the kneeling warlock and those of the glowing King, now spirit and force, remained locked forevermore, the light that transpired from The High King reached out for his other half...

And when their hands touched and the strong grip of the Once and Future King closed around Merlin's lean fingers the warlock's dark, tired eyes hid behind his eyelids as light came forth from his pure heart, surrounding them both and hiding them from the view of the world.

And Merlin smiled as he rose to his full height, those expressive eyes no longer tired, that lean face not longer wrinkled. His hair was pure black once more and he, just as his King, was in the flower of his existence, the smile on his face free from the marks of age.

"_You are late, idiot._" said King Arthur between laughs full of mirth. And side by side, they crossed to the realm of Avalon, leaving behind a word that mourned the loss of the greatest friends that ever breathed the undeserving air.

For Merlin followed Arthur into the kingdom of light after he followed him through the darkness and heartache of destiny.

.

There was nothing left behind them to prove what had happened at the lake. The world continued on but nightingales sang eulogies from the highest of trees and the flowers that emerged from The Emrys continued to bloom.

No, there was nothing left behind but a few written words and the almost unearthly aura that invaded the land of Albion for hours to come. Nothing but the silent whispers of the earth, the druids and the vilia, filled with reverence and sadness. _' he's gone, he's gone, he's gone..."_

Nothing but the carefree wind that blows on everyone's face with the light laughs of two young man, powerful and noble. And if ears are adequately strained the thin, amused whispers of 'prat' and 'idiot' can be heard in the salted air of Avalon.

Nothing but the knowledge that once, The Emrys and the Once and Future King walked through the earth, their noble hearts beat for one another and not even death could tear them apart. And Avalon received their two hardened warriors, battered but never broken from the blows of destiny, not as long as they had each other.

For they always were, truly, two sides of the same coin, until the end of time. The warlock born _with_ magic, destined to bend it at his will, the prince born _of_ magic, destined to restore it. The man taught to be gentle and fair by the soft touch of his mother and the man taught to be proud and brave by the stern rules of his father. Yet the Once and Future King and Emrys were the same. Both proved themselves to be merciful and just, caring, compassionate, powerful and noble. Loyalty underlined their characters. Sacrifice defined their lives. Loss, ugly and deceitful, mined their hearts in the best of ways.

Both needed each other. As the sun needs the moon so that he can be the day, there was no Arthur without Merlin. As the rain needs the clouds so that pouring may commence there was no Merlin without his King. And as hearts held together by tendrils of affection as great as the deepest of seas...the truth is unfold, no lies can be told, there is no deceit in the reality of their intertwined souls. As the light needs the night, as for bravery there is plight, there was guidance for a heart hardened by pride. And as the softest of spells was drown by the warrior's battle cry, both words were one for they fought side by side. No truer words have been spoken than the coin went unbroken as the voices of silence called to put an end to the fight. Destiny was won and the heartache lay forgotten in the cruel battleground with the staff and the crown.

.

_~Finis~_

* * *

><p>* Reference to "Heart Of Gold" by Captain Ozone, an AMAZING fic.<p>

Well * smiles and blushes*the reason why Gwaine is dead is quite stupid. I couldn't picture him as an old person for some reason...honest to God, Gwaine as an old man just didn't came to me. In the legends it is Lancelot who brings Gwaine back after some battle they had in which he gets injured in the head and dies. :)Besides, life is not all rainbows and flying ponies...people die everyday.

* sighs* Not eve I can convince myself. I hate a dead Gwaine too :(

PS. Now, just because I know you all need some cheering up I recommend reading the absolutely brilliant _"Sorcery is Serious Business"_ part of "The Other Pendragon Legends: The Fake Sorcerers" by noreallyidontcare which will have you gasping on the floor, trying to breathe in while your cheeks are burning from the tears you'll shed while you laugh your head off. I snorted a few times while I read it ( and had to explain my brother why it was funny -_- apparently he's never found anything written "funny" ) and got glares from all my family members and a headache from lack of oxygen ;)

Thank you so much for reading this, all of you, it's wonderful to be part of such a lovely community.

Love,

Ocean.**  
><strong>


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